A l'Entrada del Temps Clar
by NewPaladin
Summary: Simplicity is something that Bastian still hasn't learned from Lucia. Bastian/Lucia.
1. Kings and Queen

Oh my, I've started yet another challenge. (And it actually is quite challenging since I've noticed I don't particularly like ficlets.) This is the 100 ficlet challenge and every fill has to be exactly 100 words long.

I love these fills the most, actually, because they're about the five rulers of Magvel 3 I love them. Fado, Vigarde, Hayden, Ismaire and Mansel should get more love~ They are quite awesome.

Now, only one more thing and then you can read: Numbers 2, 8, 9 and 10 are ModernAU (and 10 has brokings flavour~)

Edit: seems to have eaten my empty lines and the title of #7. I'm sorry for that.

* * *

1. Abandon

Sometimes Ismaire wondered if it was her fault that her son had left her.

She had promised her husband that she would watch over Jehanna. But being a queen ate away her time and the next time she looked at her son, he was a young adult. Somehow, along the way, she had missed his growth. She didn't know him anymore and he left before she could apologize for her ignorance.

For many years she had lived with her guilt. But when he came at the brink of her death and accepted her apology, she felt finally at peace again.

*/*/*

2. Climb

Mansel had watched them when he was younger. From his room he could see the high walnut tree; almost every afternoon they were there and climbed as high as they could. Those three boys were best friends; Mansel had seen them before. They seemed to love this tree. Even the reluctant and reserved grey-haired boy had an expression of glee when he reached for the treetop.

Mansel envied them. He wanted to join them. He wanted to grab the highest leaf and wave it with a triumphant laugh like them.

He never dared to ask them to be his friends.

*/*/*

3. Wish

The first time he wished for a son. He was hoping for an heir who could stand up to all the obstacles awaiting him.

The first child was born dead. It was a son.

The second time he wished for a healthy child. Sex didn't matter; he'd teach his heir everything he or she would need.

The second child was a girl. She never grew older than five months.

The third time he wished for anything. He couldn't stand to see another death. It didn't matter who the child would become; it just needed to survive.

The third child lived.

*/*/*

4. Enclosed

"How are you?"

_I think that my son is weak. That he'll never become independent. That he is a burden and I feel guilty. I do love him._

"I'm well. Thank you."

"How's Lyon? I've heard he is a talented mage."

_He gets sick often. He's awkward when he's with other people. His only friends are his books and we're not as close anymore. I'm scared that he'll be all alone when I'm gone._

"Yes, he seems to have a talent for the Dark Arts."

_I fear that he walks on the wrong path._

"So everything is alright?"

_No._

"Yes."

*/*/*

5. Traumatized

Mansel didn't understand his niece at first. She adored her parents and Mansel had often admonished his brother to not spoil his daughter. To no avail; her parents doted on her. Mansel thought this would've made it harder for her to accept their deaths.

It didn't. She was oddly composed when she heard the news.

"So... they died for the Good?"

Mansel hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. They were very brave." Her blank expression barely changed; her composure was worrying.

Much to his relief, he found her later crying in her room and promised her to protect her like a parent.

*/*/*

6. Core

His heart had stood still for a second when he had heard that they couldn't find Tana. They said her pegasus and weapons were also missing. Hayden immediately knew where she was.

_Such a stupid girl!_

He sank back on his throne and tried to order his thoughts. She had left even though he had forbade it. She had left without even saying goodbye.

_What if she doesn't come back?_

His face twitched into a pained grimace. Would his last memory of his daughter be her angry frown, her stubborn pout, the disappointment in her eyes?

He felt like crying.

*/*/*

7. Endear

She was not like the other women he had met in his life. Fado hadn't liked her at first; he was more attracted to openly fiery and passionate women. Women who challenged him and enticed him.

But she... on first glance she was nothing like those women. She was calm, radiated peacefulness, was polite and quiet. Fado hadn't paid attention to her until this one remark: "You're not the great catch you think you are."

She had said that with a teasing, provocative smile; the first glimpse of her other side. He took the bait.

He loved her quiet passion.

*/*/*

8. Hercules

They had often tested who the strongest was when they were young. Hayden was the first to lose; he had always been a bit scrawny and had troubles gaining weight. Fado and Vigarde resolved that question alone. They would wrestle or run or test who could hold a water tank over their heads the longest.

It was actually quite an amusing sight; two half-naked teenager standing in the garden, balancing plastic water tanks over their heads. Hayden found it rather advantageous for himself; girls liked to watch them and since they were occupied, he had plenty of time to flirt.

*/*/*

9. Ignition

She hated her car; something was always broken. The windows couldn't be opened, the left back door didn't want to stay closed and the engine made strange noises while driving.

And now it didn't start.

Annoyed, Ismaire repeatedly smacked her head against the driving wheel. The guy from the garage said he'd be here in half an hour. He was 27 minutes late.

She had things to do! Where was that stupid-

"Hello?" Someone knocked against the window. Ismaire looked up. The handsomest guy she's ever seen smiled at her apologetically. "I'm sorry I'm late."

Ismaire smiled back. "It's okay."

*/*/*

10. Predator

"And I'm saying that you won't hook up with her."

"Pray tell why?" Vigarde answered with heavy sarcasm dripping from his voice. Fado looked up from his comic.

"Because, unlike you, she has class. She is beautiful, bright and unbelievably sexy." Fado turned his attention back to his cheesy horror comic. "Ismaire is too intelligent to go out with you."

Vigarde snorted. "You're just pissed because she told you to fuck off." Fado put down his comic with an annoyed groan.

"She didn't say 'fuck off'."

Vigarde laughed. "I bet 50 bucks she'll go out with me on Friday."

"Accepted."


	2. The Joys of a Father :Fado, Twins

Drabble written for xirysa, prompt "Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious" (I have to insert the "-" there, otherwise eats the word for whatever reason. Just ignore it). XD Quite fun, quite fun.

Also, I've decided to turn this into a general drabble collection and I believe I will post the drabbles I haven't put on as of yet as well.

* * *

"Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious!" two very familiar voices exclaimed simultaneously.

Very slowly and inwardly fearing the worst, Fado raised his gaze, peeking over the edge of his magazine. There were very, very broad grins on his five-year-old twins´ faces. "What did you say?"

"Supercalifragilistic-expialidocious!" they exclaimed again in perfect unison. Fado pressed his teeth together tightly. He knew what that meant. Far, far too well, actually.

"Come, Eirika, Ephraim, can't we watch something else for once?" he asked pleadingly, putting down his magazine.

"No!"

Fado cringed. Ephraim started bouncing and Eirika dashed to the cupboard and got the VHS. "Here," Eirika shoved the video tape in his face. Grudgingly, he accepted it, but didn't stand up yet.

"But we bought a new video last week. Why won't you try that?"

"No!" Eirika shook her head wildly.

"We want 'Mary Poppins'!"

Fado groaned. He needed to get out of here. Quickly. He couldn't stand to watch this movie yet again. His gaze flickered through the room, searching for an escape. Meanwhile Ephraim and Eirika climbed on the couch and clung to their father, chanting the dreaded word over and over again.

"Hey, be quiet for a moment," he finally said. The twins looked at him with big eyes full of expectation. "Why won't you watch the movie with your mother? She hasn't watched it with you for weeks."

In that moment Catalina poked her head in and said: "I'm sorry, dear, but I have an appointment. I'll be back in a few hours." Fado gaped at her over his shoulder. She waved goodbye with a smile, threw a kiss to each of her children and left the house suspiciously quickly and giggling. Fado groaned again. The twins chanted again.

"Alright, alright!" Fado finally said, defeated, and stood up to get the movie started. Eirika and Ephraim cheered happily and loudly. When Fado sat down again and pressed 'play', Eirika immediately claimed his lap – much to Ephraim´s dismay, but he had sat on Fado´s lap the last time – and leaned back giggling.  
As soon as the opening credits started rolling, Fado sighed deeply, put his arms around Ephraim and Eirika and just accepted that he would have to watch 'Mary Poppins' for about the fiftieth time in the last month. At least the cuteness that were his children when they started to sing the songs with the actors made this whole thing a tiny bit bearable.

He just wished that "singing and having fun" weren't the only thing they learnt from that movie; their room always looked like after a hurricane.


	3. Tea :Knoll, Vigarde

An older not-really-a-drabble anymore for "write my character". Raphi´s character was Knoll, of course. And Vigarde has to appear because Viggy is Viggy.

This is modern AU.

* * *

Knoll had just reached the chapter about the inner structure of wyverns, so called mini-dragons even though they just were overgrown lizards, – their heart was located directly next to their stomach! – when he heard a loud rattle and low curses. Confused and surprised, he stood up from his desk and peeked into the corridor. He saw a pair of black boots next to the entrance door and heard metallic rattling from the kitchen.

With a little sigh, he walked into the kitchen; his mother´s new boyfriend, a widower with a pretty strange name, was kneeling on the floor, collecting the measuring cups, boxes, small metal pots and cartons with teabags which had fallen out of a wall cupboard. When Knoll stepped on the creaking parquet – they lived in a pretty old house –, the man looked up sheepishly.

"Knoll," Vigarde said, quickly standing up, and pushing the rest of the crockery into the cupboard. "Did I disturb you? I'm sorry, I was just trying to find the tea strainer." Knoll wondered why Vigarde would need it since he never drank tea, but took the strainer out of the drawer under the water cooker and presented it to Vigarde. Vigarde harrumphed embarrassed and took it with a mumbled "Thanks" and continued to prepare tea. Knoll observed him closely; it was not that he thought Vigarde would break anything, but he was just curious what the man was trying to accomplish. Knoll´s mother was not home. Knoll frowned. Vigarde seemed to be nervous for whatever reason; he was lowly mumbling to himself, his movements were agitating and there was this nervous, crooked half-smile on his face that every time appeared when Vigarde was talking to Knoll.

Vigarde opened a silver packet of tea and put a spoonful in the strainer which was dangling in Knoll´s favourite cup, which was another matter that made Knoll frown. He didn't recognize the brand on the packet and was quite puzzled where it came from. Normally his mother would always show him her newest addition to their ever-growing tea collection.

Vigarde sighed relieved when he finally had poured the hot water over the dark brown leaves and switched on the timer. Knoll tilted his head and stared at the man; he wanted some kind of explanation for this strange behaviour. When Vigarde turned to him, his nervous smile became broader and he ran his hand through his ponytail – another strange thing; Knoll had never seen him with anything but open hair.

"So, how's school?" This was the opener to a very superficial conversation about school, biology and Knoll reminding Vigarde again that lizards are not amphibians. A strong and yet gentle scent of green tea with a whiff of fruit had steadily filled the room and more and more distracted Knoll. His gaze flickered over to the cup regularly and the desire to taste the new and unknown tea grew with every second.

Suddenly the loud ringing of the timer broke the now very one-sided conversation and both participants seemed to be glad about it. Vigarde quickly took out the tea strainer and walked over to the trash bin to empty it. Knoll used the opportunity to lean forward and take a deep sniff of the delicious smelling tea.

"What type of tea is this?" he asked.

"Golden Jehannan, I think," Vigarde said, while walking back to the sink to clean the strainer. Knoll nodded slowly; he had heard of that type of tea. Mild, slightly sweet, a bit fruity and delicious as ice tea. He had wanted to try it for a while now. He jealously stared at the invitingly looking cup; maybe he could ask Vigarde if he could have a cup as well. But he didn't really have the courage to ask, which was silly since they already knew each other for more than a year and Vigarde was a good guy. A bit too childish, especially when in company with his friends (honestly, what kind of grown men still dress up as pirates and ninjas on Halloween), but well-meaning.

"Puh," Vigarde sighed and opened the fridge to take out a bottle of lemonade. Knoll stared at him confused and slightly shocked. Who would ignore a cup of delicious tea and drink some lemonade! And why did he make it in the first place if he had no intention of drinking it? Vigarde seemed to notice Knoll´s shocked stare and rolled his shoulders, smiling nervously again.

"Are you not drinking your tea?" Knoll asked (someone ignoring tea was a grave enough matter to get your courage together to open your mouth).

Vigarde hemmed. "Well, it's for you. It's your tea." Knoll´s eyes widened comically in surprise.

"Mine?" That oh-so delicious tea?

"Yes. I know you like tea and when Aileen, Hayden´s wife – you remember Hayden, do you? –, said that that tea was really good, I immediately thought you would maybe like it. I asked Clara if you already have it and she said 'no' so I brought a packet," he said, rambling slightly. They looked at each other silently for a few seconds. "You don't have to try it if you don't want." Knoll slowly turned back to the cup and picked it up. The smell was so alluring! He saw Vigarde fidgeting slightly and taking a deep gulp of lemonade in the corner of his eyes.

Knoll closed his eyes and took a gentle sip. The tea was excellent - a bit too strong perhaps and a bit of milk would make it even better, but it was still extremely tasty. After savouring the taste on his tongue, Knoll opened his eyes again with a contented sigh. Vigarde watched him nervously. "It's very good," Knoll said with a rare smile. Vigarde grinned back with relief. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Knoll nodded to him once, mumbled something about homework and shuffled back into his room to properly enjoy the tea and the chapter about the biological abnormality of wyverns.


	4. Picnic :HaydenOC

Rethira wanted Hayden/Aileen fluff and I could never resist such a prompt. I love those two too much 3 Prompt was "having a picnic"

Aileen is mine OC, Hayden´s wife.

* * *

"It's so beautiful here," Aileen murmured and dug her toes deep into the soft sand. She kicked it up a bit and some of the grains of sand were blown on the picnic blanket.

"Only the most beautiful is good enough for you," Hayden said while rummaging through the contents of the picnic box. Aileen smiled at him over her shoulder.

"You're such a sweetheart." He grinned while building a little tower out of plates, cups, a box with cut-up fruits and a few slices of cake on his search for whatever he searched for.

"Spoiling you is my favourite hobby," he said. Aileen smiled to herself and held back the naughty comment resting on the tip of her tongue. She had to save some things for later. Besides, it was more funny to surprise him with naughty comments when he didn't expect them! "Ah!" he exclaimed and pulled a rectangular object wrapped in brown paper out of the box. He unwrapped the sandwich and lifted it to his mouth.

"Wait!" Aileen said when she noticed the red cream under the lettuce and ham. But too late; Hayden had already taken a bite.

"What is it?", he asked confused. Aileen gazed at him sympathetically. Then his eyes widened "Oh my..." He pulled a grimace and slapped his hand over his mouth; he suppress his coughing fit and tried to swallow the bite. Aileen crawled over to him and quickly poured some tea in a cup and gave it to him. He gulped it down in one go.

"I'm sorry, Hayden. I've tried to warn you that some of the sandwiches are made with the chilli cream I love. I should've marked them somehow." She grabbed a cloth and dabbed away the little bit of sweat that had formed on Hayden´s forehead.

"It's alright," he said, still coughing a bit, and put the cup down. He pulled at his collar and fanned himself. "I would've stripped later anyway." With one motion he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Aileen raised her eyebrows and a smirk tugged at her mouth. Hayden smiled back, looking and acting as if he had no ulterior motive.

He reached out for the cup and the teapot. Aileen watched how he drowned another cup and the smirk finally found its way on her face. "Does your mouth hurt?" Hayden blinked surprised and looked at her. She advanced, laying on hand on his bare chest, and looked at him in a decidedly sexy way. "Let me kiss the pain away." Hayden hadn't expected that they started making out so soon, but he definitely didn't protest!


	5. Lazy Morning :SethEirika

Mindless fluff/stuff for wolfraven80. "Seth/Eirika, having a lazy day". Modern AU.

* * *

Seth sighed deeply and stretched slightly. He wiggled his toes when he felt the hot sun tickling his skin and pulled his legs up so that they were in the shadows again. Eirika, whose head was lying on his chest, stirred slightly and mumbled something like "Let me sleep". Seth lazily pushed her hair from her bare shoulder and let his fingers glide down over her back; she purred at that and he felt her mouth curve upwards.

Locusts loudly called and almost drowned the singing birds out. Somewhere in the distance someone was mowing his lawn. The ice cubes in orange juice on the table next to them knocked gently against the glass. Seth sighed again and decided that the big outdoor lounge was the best buy Eirika had ever done. They had spent many hot days out here, where the sun couldn't reach them.

He drew little circles on her lower back with his index finger; she giggled slightly and blindly reached out for his hand. She laid it over her waist and snuggled closer to him.

"We should go grocery shopping now. Most people are still at work," he mumbled.

"Hm-hm," Eirika answered. Neither made to stand up or even open their eyes. "And the laundry."

"Yes." Seth´s hand wandered upwards and raked through her soft hair. "And the flowers need water."

"Hm, yes."

For the next few minutes only the locust, birds and the dogs of the neighbours were talking. Eirika had fallen asleep again and Seth was on the verge of doing it as well. Before he let go of reality for now, he thought to himself: "I'll stand up in a minute. Just... a minute..."


	6. Bathing :GeoffreyElincia

Just something short and silly. The prompt was "Geoffrey/Elincia, going swimming".

* * *

"Are you sure this is proper?" Geoffrey asked for probably the sixth time. Elincia only rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her only in her undershirt and panties. Geoffrey averted his gaze, blushing brightly.

"Geoffrey, let's relax for now. Please? We can go back to the others in a few minutes. I just want cool down for a second. It is so unbearably hot today."

Geoffrey bit his lip, inwardly fighting a futile fight, and nodded. He could never refuse her anything. Elincia giggled and he heard her moving and the water splashing.

"Ah, so cold!" His eyes flickered to her; only her head was over the water and her hair floated around her prettily. He quickly looked away again; there was a very pretty shrubbery over there. With nice big leaves and a nice colour. And there was even a bird´s next between those branches.

"Come in, Geoffrey! It's really refreshing."

"No, my Queen. I'd rather stay here and guard you. We would be defenceless if I join you." He wondered how she could've forgot that because she told him to accompany her so that she would not be defenceless in the first place!

"But the scouts said there are no enemies around." Geoffrey shook his head.

"Milady, please, I-" He made the mistake to look at her and her sight slapped all air out of his lungs. The water pooled around her waist, her shirt clung so, so tight against her skin and - oh god, he could see her nipples and why was she standing there with such an innocent smile! "Elincia!" He slapped his hand over his eyes. "Please, I- I'll stay here." His ears and cheeks burned with embarrassment and an emotion he refused to acknowledge now.

"Oh." He heard a splash. He dared to peek through his fingers; her perfectly shaped body was hidden under the water again and her cheeks were pink. She looked so cute with pink cheeks! Geoffrey swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

"Don't- don't mention it." His tongue was so heavy. But now that she had understood it, this wouldn't happen again and he would probably get away with two or three "special" dreams about her.

"Next time, though..." Her voice made him blink and lower his hand, which was foolish of him. An unfamiliar smile was playing around her mouth and the adorable pink on her cheeks had deepened. "You will join me."

Geoffrey swallowed hard again. His dreams will go wild!


	7. Mom is the Best :Ismaire, Joshua

Xirysa knows my weakness DX Ismaire is so hard to write. Oh my. Prompt was "Ismaire being a badass she-bro and showing her young son how much of a badass motherfucker she really is.". Because Izzy is a BAMF.

* * *

"No, Joshie," Ismaire sighed. "It's step, step, lunge, sidestep, block. Not step, lunge, sidestep, stumble." Joshua groaned annoyed and lowered his sword.

"But, Mom. It's so hard. Can we have a break?"

"No," Ismaire retorted and directed a stern glance at her unwilling son. "You'll show Emperor Vigarde that you are the most talented prince in Magvel and for that you have to train. And now repeat the exercise."

"But, Mom!" He stomped his foot once. "I don't get it. I hate it. I don't want anymore!"

Ismaire sighed slightly annoyed. But Joshua was frustrated and his eyes became wet so there was no way to press him further. Though... "Come, I'll show you how it's done." Before Joshua could voice his protest, Ismaire did her thing. She did the exercise perfectly, every motion precise and deadly. It felt good; she hadn't fought for a long time and she had almost forgot how she loved to grab her sword and dance with it. She added one series of attacks after another and completely forgot why she had come here in the first place.

Finally, when she felt sweat forming on her brow, she stopped and took one deep breath to calm her excited heart. Dry air filled her lungs and it felt refreshing. She sheathed her sword and turned around, intending to go back into the castle, because she had no obvious reason to be out here.

Then her gaze fell on her son and embarrassment painted her already flushed cheeks in a darker red. But Joshua didn't notice her surprise and only looked up at her with big, sparkling eyes.

"That was so awesome!" he exclaimed. Ismaire blinked confused. "Please show me how to do that! Pleasepleaseplease!" He ran over to her, clutched her skirt and jumped up and down with glee, chanting his plea over and over again. Ismaire smiled proudly; now that was her son!


	8. In Hiding :Geoffrey, Lucia

Why, yes, this is quite silly. I like silliness. Written for sain/quieru, prompt "Bastian/Lucia-Lucia goes to great extents to hide from Bastian's attempts to woo her with words...and presents."

Roflmao.

* * *

Geoffrey flinched surprised when the door of the salon slammed shut; he jumped to his feet, hit his hand at the edge of the low bookshelf where he had searched for a book on Crimean Law and whirled around. He only saw a blue and white blur disappearing in the tall cupboard, which was mostly empty if Geoffrey recalled correctly. Confused he walked over slowly.

Suddenly the door opened again and a well known person entered. "My lady Lucia?" Bastian asked with a broad grin. Said grin faltered when he only saw the confused Geoffrey, who was rubbing the back of his right hand. "Geoffrey, my dear friend, have you seen your darling sister? Methinks she has entered this room mere seconds ago."

_Ah. That explains it,_ Geoffrey thought. "No. I'm sorry." If she went that far and hid in a cupboard there was probably a good reason for it. Bastian humph-ed unhappily.

"Very well then. I shall continue my search elsewhere." Before Geoffrey could ask what Bastian wanted from his sister, the sage turned around, waved his friend goodbye and left. But before the door fell close, Geoffrey could spot a box wrapped in bright paper in his hand. Seemed like Bastian had brought another souvenir from his latest travel to the south.

Geoffrey walked over to the cupboard and opened it. It was not a wardrobe; there was not much space for a person. His gaze dropped to the lowest compartment; there his sister was, wedged between the bottom and the first board. She looked up at him and kept her face admirably blank. Geoffrey raised his eyebrows, fighting the smile back down.

"Good day, Geoffrey."

"Good day to you as well, sister." They stared at each other for a moment. "Do you... not want to come out?" Lucia nodded slightly, crawled out - well, almost fell out - of the cupboard and stood up, clearing her throat embarrassed.

"Well, I have work to do now," she said and already walked away. Geoffrey leaned slightly on the cupboard door, very amused at his sister´s embarrassment; it was not like he could tease her often! Normally he was the one being teased.

"And I get no explanation for why my sister hides in a cupboard?" He couldn't keep his amusement out of his voice. Lucia stopped; her posture was a little bit stiff.

"I didn't want to deal with his sweet-talking now," she said, turning around. "I saw no other way to avoid it."

"Of course." Her cheeks turned a bit pink. "Why don't you just tell him that you don't appreciate his presents and the poetry he sends and recites for you?"

Lucia looked at him incredulously. "Do you think I haven't done that? He just doesn't listen to me." Geoffrey frowned slightly.

"Really? As far as I remember your rebukes to him are pretty weak compared to others." Lucia bristled. "I can't recall a clear 'no' from you."

"Geoffrey, it would be better if you'd keep your nose out of my business and rather concentrate on correcting your own inability to never say 'no' to Elincia." Geoffrey´s ear turned red. Before he could form the words for a retort, she had already slipped out of the door.


	9. Eternal Smile :Lucius

An almost brand new drabble for raphien. Prompt was "smiling". My first time writing Lucius. Aah, FE7 is really not my playground.

* * *

Elimine was the ever-smiling.

They had a statue of her behind the altar. Lucius often knelt before her, praying, wishing for more food for the smaller children in the orphanage, for more blankets, for a mild winter. Elimine listened to his selfless wishes as patiently and with her eternal smile as to his childish wishes (a toy? He didn't need a toy while the helpings of gruel grew smaller and smaller every day. A book? The older children wore clothes with holes bigger than his fist.).

Lucius felt safe here, felt loved by Elimine. He wondered if a mother´s smile looks as serene and friendly as Elimine´s. If a mother would listen to his complains and sorrows and doubts as patiently as her. If a mother would always be here for him.

Lucius admired Elimine and strove to become like her. He practised to copy her smile for hours bend over the lake because there was no mirror in the little orphanage. He practised to be patient, to listen to everyone, to give hope and support, to always smile.

One day a little girl who had scrapped her knee because another girl had pushed her and was now crying in Lucius´ arms looked up at him, sniffling. "You smile as pretty as Elim'e," she mumbled with a lisp. Lucius only hushed her, pressing a kiss on her forehead, and then wiped off her tears, sending her back to play with her friends. Secretly he was elated and it seemed to him that he grew a few centimetre in that second. Later, for a moment, he feared that it was vain to feel so proud of himself – deep at night he sneaked into the prayer room and asked Elimine for forgiveness – but he was sure that the good he did with his smile would balance it out.

Years later Elimine´s smile has become his smile. He smiles at Serra, who is rambling about her dress and beautiful hair again. He smiles at Raven, who rages against Ostia again and who doesn't listen to Lucius´ attempts to calm him. He smiles at Canas, who wants to lend a holy book and doesn't stop listing the pros and contras of light magic against dark magic. He smiles at Wil, who comes back with an arrow sticking out of his thigh. He smiles at Kent, who is slowly dying, and Lady Lyndis, who sits next to him and doesn't let him go.

Only deep at night, when Raven is asleep or on watch, Lucius lets the smile slip from his face. It becomes harder every day and the blank expression feels weird, wrong. Sometimes Lucius tries to smile normally, show his own smile. But it always turns into the patient, forgiving, eternal and yet so _empty_ smile. The first time, Lucius was afraid. Now he just accepts it. He has given up his own smile, his own happiness to make others happy. And he is content.

No one, not even Lucius himself, notices the tiny flash of loneliness in his eyes every time the eternal smile settles on his face.


	10. Blanket :Innes, Tana

Well, this isn't even close to a drabble XD But I still put it in here since it's a prompt fill. Just because. Also, Tana&Innes are adorable together. Prompt was "blanket", written for penandpaper71.

* * *

Innes sat close to the tree trunk, cowering in its shadow to keep the moonlight from reflecting on his hair. He was not leaning against the tree since he had received a big though superficial wound on his lower back. It was not enough to keep him from accepting a shift, of course; you'd need more than that to keep the Prince of Frelia from doing what was his due.

It was only a superficial wound, yes, but it twinged and ached in the crisp night air more than he had supposed. However, he would surely _not_ go back and ask Ephraim (of all people) to give his shift to someone else. This little ache would not hinder his ability to detect and shoot enemy spies. He just ignored the pain and rather stared at the bushes, the palisade of trees and kept a close gaze on the holes in the treetops.

Maybe an hour passed and the ache had grown almost too prominent for him to ignore; he shifted a bit, pulling his cloak tighter around himself but it accomplished nothing but more uncomfortableness. The weather was not that bad, actually, and he wouldn't freeze that much if he could walk or just somehow move his limbs. But he wouldn't show the enemy were to hit just because of a little coldness.

Suddenly the world became dark and something fell on him. Startled he stumbled to his feet, but his legs gave away (he should have switched his sitting position earlier) and he fell back. Small hands caught him. "Innes!" a familiar voice hissed worriedly.

"Tana?" he asked incredulously and yanked the cloth, which he identified as a blanket, from his head and incredulously looked up at his little sister. "Are you mad?" While there was still a hint of worry on her brow, she looked mostly annoyed now.

"I thought you heard me," she retorted and crouched down. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aren't you the one who said that you have an impeccable hearing?"

"Tana, what do you want?"

"I've thought you might be cold," she said with a shrug, a bit from her annoyance leaving her face. "You seemed to have problems with your side earlier and I know you can be sensitive to cold." Innes clenched his teeth tightly; he wouldn't let his _little_ sister tell him that he is sensitive to anything.

"Don't be ridiculous. Where did you get this blanket from anyway?" He pulled it a bit closer, letting the surprisingly soft material caress his cheek. "I don't believe we had any spare ones." And he had looked into that earlier (he had feared that his own blanket would be too thin to keep him warm properly and he was proven right again).

"It's mine," she said with a shrug and an unconcern that appalled him.

"Tana," he hissed and yanked her blanket from his shoulders, shoving it towards her. "I won't take your only blanket. You'll catch cold and that's the last thing we need. Be a bit more responsible. I thought you wanted to show me that you are a fully-fledged soldier now." She puffed up her cheeks in anger – a relict from their childhood when this technique still worked on Innes and her father (truth to be told, sometimes it _still_ worked on their father).

"I still have my riding cloak. Just take it."

"No. Our father would have my hide if I let you catch a cold. I don't need your help."

"You're ungrateful, you know that?" He didn't even blink.

"Take your blanket with you and leave me alone." He turned back to the forest, sitting cross-legged, and clutched his own blanket tighter. He thought that he had made his point clearly and that this conversation was over, but he obviously underestimated Tana´s stubbornness.

She straightened abruptly, threw her blanket over him – how she managed to tuck it around him so tightly and _quickly_, he would never know – and walked away, her head held high.

"Tana," he hissed and whirled around. She gave him a dismissive wave over her shoulder.

"I can't hear you. You have to speak up." Her voice had an incredibly grating triumphant undertone. Innes gritted his teeth; she knew he wouldn't call after her. It was far too dangerous and he wasn't stupid. Seething with annoyance, he turned towards the forest again and unwillingly clutched her blanket tighter.

He warmed up quite quickly and the ache died away steadily. He grudgingly admitted that he was thankful that Tana had come. Over the time the night grew colder and his breath started to morph into white fog around midnight. Maybe another hour after that a solemn knight came to relieve him. Innes refused to show how stiff his bones had grown and how his teeth chattered so he only nodded to the knight and returned to his own tent almost directly.

He took a little detour to Tana´s tent; he didn't intend to keep her blanket the whole night and to be deeper in her debt. Soundlessly, he slipped into her tent and tiptoed over to where he thought her bunk was, outstretching his hand to feel for the edge of her bed (and to avoid hitting his knee on it again). He was shocked when his searching fingers found cold skin. Tana backed away a bit at his warm touch and sigh-groaned in her sleep. Innes waited for a few seconds so that his eyes could grew accustomed to the light.

He still couldn't discern much, but he did see that Tana´s so-called riding cloak barely covered her legs. She had curled up, clutching her knees to her chest, to keep her little warmth close to her. Her arms were bare and (to Innes at least) felt colder than the night air. He tsked annoyed (and worried) and immediately threw her blanket over her, tucking it close around her.

"Stupid girl," he mumbled to himself while pulling the blanket up to her chin. "I told you father would have my hide if I let you get sick." She shifted, clutching for the blanket, and sighed.

He pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder; then his hand hovered over her head for a moment, hesitating, until he finally stroked her once. He quickly stood up afterwards and strode towards the tent exit. Just when he threw back the cloth, he heard a low "Thank you, brother". He turned his head back, an answer lying on the tip of his tongue, but it didn't want to leave his mouth.

"Good night." Then he left the tent.


	11. In My Shadow :Vigarde

This was supposed to be the fill for the "Smile" prompt by raphi, but then I've decided that she probably doesn't want Vigarde angst (instead got Lucius slight angstiness XD) and it doesn't _really_ fit the prompt anyway. So, you get the angstiness now as an extra 8D I like this flavour of angst.

Yeah, it's a biiiiit too long for a drabble, but who cares 8D Yay Vigarde~ (BTW, in case you don't know; Minna is Vigarde´s deceased wife, my OC)

* * *

Lyon doesn't know that his father is with him all the time. He doesn't know that Vigarde stands next him and pleads for him to _stop_.

Vigarde had left the world; he had already been in afterlife, had seen Minna, had talked to her and felt so light and happy like never before. But then he was yanked back, away from Minna, away from the perfect and beautiful world there.

When he opens his eyes, he stands in Grado Keep and looks around. He doesn't know what happened. Then he sees Lyon, smiling. A smile so wrong and- and mad that Vigarde recoils. He can't believe that this is his son. Lyon steps forward, whispers "Father" and makes a grab for him.

Vigarde opens his mouth to ask Lyon what the hell is going on and why he's here again. Before he can, Lyon grabs someone next to Vigarde. He turns surprised and is greeted by an unbelievable, and horrifying, sight. He sees himself; sunken cheeks, sickly colour, dark rings under his eyes, blank eyes-

_Those blank eyes, they haunt him. They scare him. He can't stop wondering if he had them even when he was still alive._

"Father..." Lyon´s eyes are so hopeful, his smile so loving. It is wrong, so wrong. Vigarde calls out for him, wants Lyon to step away from that thing. But he doesn't hear him. Lyon doesn't hear him. Vigarde yells and reaches for Lyon, but the boy doesn't seem to feel his hand.

He has to follow himself around. Vigarde can't leave; some unknown force prevents him from moving away more than an arm-length.

He has to see everything. He has to see how Lyon directs his old, dead body and prepares to attack one of Vigarde´s oldest friends. Vigarde has given up trying to communicate with Lyon; nobody can see or hear him. He has tried to stop his body, maybe to slip into it and take it over, or destroy it, but it's all futile.

So he is doomed to watch and regret. To regret that he couldn't prevent this from happening. He should've prepared Lyon better. He should've looked out for Lyon more and concentrate on supporting him, helping him, building up his confidence and not avoiding him because he reminds him of Minna so much and of his own unfair and disgusting thoughts. He shouldn't have said those words when he died.

_"You would ask Renais to rescue us from... a natural disaster? They would not help us..."_

He should've told Lyon that he can do it, that he has the strength, that he is confident that Lyon will master this, that he is proud of him and loves him. He should've said more, should've showed assurance in Lyon´s abilities, should have, should have, should have...

So many "should have"s that might have changed everything. So many times that Vigarde failed. The guilt builds up every day, clings to him, weighs him down, chains him to his dead body. It sits on Vigarde´s shoulders and has become his constant companion like the dark fog around Lyon´s head has.

He is dragged to Renais, the guilt growing bigger with every step they take. Vigarde prays that Fado will prevail, that he manages to stop Lyon. Lyon starts to scare Vigarde. Something is not right, the look in his eyes is not his own. Vigarde wonders where his shy, insecure son has gone. He begins to think that this is not his son, that someone has replaced him.

_It feels like an excuse. He just wants to feel better, but he doesn't. Nothing helps. He is scared._

When they enter the throne room of Renais, Vigarde is glad that Fado stands there with a sword in hand. He wants him to kill this body so that he can finally leave. He no longer manages to care for what would happen afterwards. _He just wants to disappear_. It is cowardly, he knows that. But he no longer cares. The disbelief and disappointment in Fado´s eyes feeds Vigarde´s guilt.

When his dead body pierces Fado´s chest, Vigarde cries in pain. This is not how it was supposed to end. Fado was supposed to live, to kill Vigarde, to release him. Instead, Fado gasps for air, flickering and suddenly seeming to stand there twice. Vigarde almost breaks down when Fado is thrown backwards, his neck hitting the edge of a stair and his body slumps. He yells and cries and begs for forgiveness, because this is all his fault. All his shortcomings. All because of the "should have"s that never happened.

His dead body turns and walks away. Vigarde is pulled backwards, away from Fado´s body, away from that shimmering form that stands up and looks around surprised. Vigarde yells the name of his friend, begs him to believe that he never wanted that, that this is _all wrong_. The shimmering Fado sees him. Vigarde doesn't know if he hears him or if he is as deaf as everybody else. Fado says something, his lips move, but Vigarde doesn't hear him. He only sees how Fado begins to dissolve, how his body turns into pieces and flows upwards like bubbles in water. The corners of Fado´s mouth moves upward, Vigarde thinks. No, he is not sure. His wish to see forgiveness, understanding in his friend´s face is so strong that he no longer believes what he sees.

Fado has disappeared before Vigarde can look for a second time.

Vigarde knows now that this person is not his son anymore. The dark fog has swallowed up his body. Vigarde only stands next to his body now and waits. Waits for the end. There is nothing anybody can do anymore. Whatever this fog is, it has destroyed everything. His own name and work, his son, his country. Vigarde tries to hate it, but he can't. He only feels guilty that he has done nothing to prevent it.

He knows he's wallowing in self-pity. He knows he is pathetic. He almost wishes he would stay here forever so that he doesn't have to face Minna and Fado in afterlife. He has never felt this ashamed in whole life.

When the message comes that Ephraim has invaded the castle, Vigarde starts to hope a bit again. He knows Ephraim and his strength. Maybe he can do what his father wasn't able to do.

When Ephraim´s spear pierces the dead body´s heart, Vigarde rejoices and a wave of joy lifts a bit of his guilt from his shoulders. The relief is almost too much. He smiles broadly, already feels how he dissolves, how his entity or being or whatever he is soars towards the sky. He wants to thank Ephraim so he opens his eyes for the last time. The boy seems to be confused. Vigarde wonders and looks at his dead body; his body smiles. It wears the same smile that the real Vigarde wears. Vigarde believes he should feel bitter that he manages to influence the body only now in the last seconds of its existence, but he doesn't. He can only feel relieved.

He closes his eyes, feels himself fall apart, and is suddenly so light again.

The warmth is back; Vigarde knows he has returned to afterlife. He doesn't dare to open his eyes yet. He has to calm down first, feel the happiness again, push back the guilt. Suddenly he hears someone shift and curiosity wins. He opens his eyes.

At first he is blinded by the light. When he has grown accustomed to his surroundings again, he detects the person sitting next to him.

"Fado..."

He turns, his face is blank. Fear creeps up again and Vigarde feels that far too well-known coldness again.

Then the corners of his mouth turn upwards, in slow motion for Vigarde. Fado grins his typical broad grin. Vigarde feels like crying again.

"There you are," Fado says and laughs. "I've been waiting for you." Fado stands up and offers Vigarde his hand. Vigarde takes it and leaves his guilt lying there on the ground while he stands up, enters afterlife again and is forgiven.


	12. Dish Washing :Seth, Geoffrey

I don't know how I could completely forget about this little drabble (probably because it was stored away in the folder for Crossovers in which I never look XD) Anyway, it seems to be a failed response to a prompt. Failed, since the drabble doesn't seem to have much in common with the prompt. It's still hilarious XD

Original prompt: "Geoffrey and Seth, discussing their respective princesses/queens, and trying to - in a chivalrous knightly manner - prove that their own is superior to the others 8D"

* * *

"Why are you here?" the blue-haired man said and handed the redhead next to him the wet plate.

Seth sighed and used the old rag in his free hand to dry the soapy plate. "I said that she may not ride my stallion because he's too big and wild for her. I don't know why she was so angry about it. I was only honest." Geoffrey nodded and scrubbed hard at an extremely encrusted pot. "And why are you here?"

"Queen Elincia asked if I need help with cleaning my lance. I told her that would be demeaning to her and that it's my job, not hers."

"Hm," Seth mumbled and placed the now dry plate atop the plate tower next to him. "I never believed the saying that women are unsolvable enigmas, but today I might agree. I don't know why our wives thought we deserve to be punished." Geoffrey sighed and nodded in agreement, handing his friend the pot.


	13. Of Smiles and What They Mean :Lyon

For raphien/Asherien. Because she inspired/bugged me with that idea 8D Which reminds me of old people semi-romance that I also wanted to do. Oops. But for now Lyon and his daddy issues part 23885982974071 XD

And I'm sorry for the pretty crappy ending ;A; I tried and tried but it didn't become better.

* * *

Lyon leaned over the books, his nose almost touching the page. His eyes stung; he had read for hours straight and his eyes demanded a rest. He denied them the rest though and forced himself to read. He couldn't stop now. He needed to find a way to change the future quickly. He could sacrifice his eyes for that.

The letters were small, curvy and almost unreadable. His vision alternated between blurry and a bit less blurry. He rubbed his eyes and tried to blink the fog away, but it didn't help. He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration and stood up. With slumped shoulders, he walked over to a chaise longue and laid down. It was uncomfortable and he shifted around for a while until he finally found a position he could relax in. He rested his head on his arm and closed – though unwillingly – his eyes. Thanks to his late tendency to avoid sleep, he almost instantly fell asleep.

- - He stands in his father´s study with a book clutched to his chest. Lyon talks about magic and what he has learned that day; Vigarde watches him, listens and nods sometimes. But his gaze is distant and flickers over to his papers. Lyon notices and his voice slowly grows quieter and he starts to repeat himself. Vigarde frowns and Lyon drops his gaze.

"I'm sorry, father," Lyon mumbles. Vigarde shakes his head slowly.

"Don't be. I asked you to tell me your achievements." Vigarde smiles at him, but it is forced. It looks more like a grimace to Lyon and he bites the inside of his cheek. "But I have to work now."

"Yes, father. Goodbye, father." Lyon turns after a short bow and leaves the room. - -

- - He stands to the left and a bit apart from his father. Lyon has a good view on him and the people he interacts with. He is old enough now to know what he is supposed to do, how the protocol is and when he is allowed to talk so he waits.

His father looks relaxed. He smiles at General Duessel – Lyon doesn't hear what they are talking about, but it probably has to do with the blond boy who stands next to Duessel. Vigarde shakes the blond boy´s hand then and directs his smile at him. Lyon feels a pang and drops his gaze.

He knows this smile of his father. He knows that it doesn't mean much. It doesn't mean anything that his father rarely smiles at him. Lyon is old enough to understand that his father has a reputation to uphold. That he can't look grumpy when talking to important persons. That he can't yawn and fall asleep on the throne even though he is so tired he could break down any moment.

Lyon flinches when his father laughs shortly. It sounds warm and friendly and nice and loving – but it isn't true, Lyon reminds himself. It's just as fake as the smile. Only a way to upkeep his reputation... Lyon squeezes his eyes shut; he knows his father´s true smile and laugh. He heard them. They are both tired, but they feel truer than this. He is certain that they are true and not the ones he can't bare to look at now. He knows his father better than them; he knows who his father truly is.

Lyon is strong enough now to turn back and watch his father smile, laugh and converse from the sideline. - -

- - He stands strangely apart from the group. The twins just interrupted their conversation to talk with some of their knights to settle with them who will accompany them and Lyon on their outing tomorrow. His gaze wanders over to where his and their fathers are sitting.

King Fado is talking, using big gestures to accentuate his tale, smiles broadly the whole time and Lyon feels a tiny pang at it. He bites the inside of his cheek when he sees his own father laugh and smile. It's a different set of expressions; not the ones he shows the others and not the ones he shows Lyon. This smile is truly warm and Lyon grows jealous. A feeling, a want to scream and yell and demand attention – to throw a tantrum! – creeps up his spine to his heart and he is ashamed. He turns away and watches the twins, trying to ignore his father´s sounds.

The twins turn and walk back to him with smiles on their faces; Lyon automatically smiles back.

"Everything is arranged for tomorrow," Ephraim says enthusiastically. Eirika nods.

"Let us tell father," Eirika says, links arms with Lyon and together they walk over to their fathers. King Fado is laughing loudly, a deep and booming sound. Lyon is surprised at the strength and loudness; he has lived in quietness for so long that he seems to have forgot that some people aren't quiet in everything they do. Vigarde is still chuckling when he turns to them.

"Eirika, Ephraim!" King Fado says as he turns. "What is it? Are you already bored?" His eyes twinkle with amusement.

"Father, we would like to travel to Castle Branberg tomorrow," Eirika explains.

"Branberg has a great view on the sea," Vigarde says. Eirika nods. "A beautiful place."

"Ephraim, Lyon and I want to stay there for two nights. I've heard so much about the Gradian Sea, especially about the riffs."

Vigarde nods and turns to look at Fado. "You shouldn't leave before you haven't seen Branberg." Fado smiles.

"Very well." He leans back and crosses his arms. "I expect you to watch over your sister, Ephraim." Ephraim nods seriously. When King Fado turns to Lyon, he almost blushes with surprise. "And I trust that you will watch over both of them."

"Of course," he manages to reply before dropping his gaze embarrassed. He hears Ephraim protest loudly and start arguing with his father (who seems to be amused by his son´s protests), which makes him blush. His gaze flickers over to his own father.

The blush quickly fades when he sees his father´s almost blank face. Vigarde looks at Lyon, but he doesn't seem to notice that Lyon looks back. There is a hint of doubt in Vigarde´s gaze; his smile still plays around his lips, but it is different than before. It's the smile for the others. Lyon swallows hard and drops his gaze. He wonders what that's supposed to mean. Before he can contemplate it, Ephraim grabs his arm and pulls him away from the two old men. Lyon is rather thankful for that. - -

- - He stands on shaking feet after the vision; he is breathless and almost falls. Leaning against a wall, his eyes flicker through the room while his brain tries to order his jumbling thoughts. The other scholars look almost all as shaken as he.

His run to his father and the following report of what they have seen is nothing but a blur. In the end he stands before his father, panting heavily and exhausted. He slumps onto a chair and rakes his hands through his hair; his skin is wet.

He hears his father walk up and down; he even hears how his father´s beard scratches over his sleeve. Lyon isn't sure what to do; all those deaths he has seen make him want to cry – why did he have to see them in so much detail? – but he can't break down. It would be nothing but an inconvenience to his father now.

"Is this... true?" Lyon peeks through his fingers and stares at the ground. Tears tickle at the corners of his eyes. "Is this no joke? A stupid folly?" Lyon slowly shakes his head.

"No, father. I am sure it is true."

"But you only saw it once?" Lyon looks up; his father watches him with an unfamiliar expression. He doubts him, doubts his own son. Lyon swallows his hurt and ignores it because there is a hint of desperation in his father´s eyes. Lyon thinks he would look the same, were he in his father´s position (and that thought makes him proud and giddy for a second).

"Yes," he answers lowly.

"Then it could be an error." Vigarde´s voice is strong again and confident. "A trick."

"You want us to... look again?" Lyon barely keeps his voice from shaking. He doesn't want to see all those deaths and the pain and the blood and the- He bites the inside of his cheek hard.

"Yes. Recheck it. I cannot accept it without any further proof."

"Very well," Lyon says after a few silent seconds and stands up. He waits (hopes) to hear more from his father; a word of encouragement, an acknowledgement of his pains or maybe at least a goodbye. He looks over at him and is disappointed when he is only greeted by his father´s back. Vigarde stares out of the window, absentmindedly wiping his hand over his beard and frowning deeply. Lyon leaves without another word. - -

Lyon startled awake. He blinked confused and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His temples throbbed painfully; he massaged them, yawning, and stood up. His vision was better; the edges of the desk no longer a blurry and distorted line. He swallowed the hard lump his dream had placed in his throat and stumbled over to the desk, flopping down on the chair. He pulled the book close and quickly found the line where he had stopped and started to read.

He was more tired than before but he had to work. This was not just for him; he did this for Grado. He could finally do something for them. And for his father. For once he would be proud of him and truly smile at him and there would be no doubt about it. Lyon would make sure of that.


	14. Cherry Pie :Pent, Louise

For raphi, who prompted Louise/Pent family cuteness. Here you go! 8D

* * *

After long prodding and sweet coaxing, Louise had managed to get her husband to join her and Klein in the garden for a cup of tea. A few days ago he had returned from Aquleia with a new book and she knew that he would spent the next days holed up in his library. She had let him, sent food that would sate him long and provide everything he needed every day and hoped that he would read quickly. But after two days Klein became increasingly grouchy and Louise herself missed her lord Pent terribly. So she had equipped herself with her little son and together they convinced Pent that studying in the sun and in fresh air was very agreeable to his eyes and health; he indulged them.

They had a little arbour made of white iron in their garden. It was overgrown with vines and Etrurian roses, a rambler rose with beautiful blueish white blossoms. Louise had planted them shortly after her marriage to Lord Pent and had sat there every year, marvelling at the delicate beauty of nature.

Klein protested loudly when his mother became entranced by an early blooming flower behind her. She turned back with an angelic smile and prepared another cherry for him; he seemed to love the slightly sour cherries from Bern more than the sweet Etrurian ones. He babbled satisfied and made a grab for the cherry stones. Louise pushed the little plate away.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" she asked, smiling at her husband. He looked up shortly and nodded.

"It is. Thankfully the cold winds have passed." Louise nodded, memories of her downbeat plants flashing through her mind, and absentmindedly she raked her hands through Klein´s soft, slightly curly blond hair. She wondered for a second if his curls would grow out; she'd love it if his hair stayed like this. It looked so incredibly cute.

Louise threw a quick glance over to Pent; he was bent over the thick, old book and completely disregarded his cup with no longer steaming tea. Louise didn't let that damper her mood since he had come out at all and that was a success in her book. Happily humming, she let Klein snatch another half of a cherry from her fingers and stuff it into his mouth.

It continued like this for a while – Klein eating and sucking on cherries, Louise eating the small cherry tarts the cook had made just this morning and Pent reading. Louise loved it and could've stayed like this for the rest of the day until the sun would disappear behind the tall maple trees.

Klein, however, didn't seem to like the silence of his father. He started to fret, twisted in his mother´s arms and obviously called for his father (with that adorable and demanding "Ah-ah!" sound that Louise heard quite often). Pent didn't even look up when he leaned over and patted Klein´s knee.

"Yes, yes," he said and turned a page. "You're doing that very well." Louise sighed lowly, still smiling. Klein frowned and slumped a bit. Louise leaned down to peck his cheek and offered him another cherry. He slowly took it, but didn't eat it. Instead he stared at his father again. Louise made a low "hm", but since Klein seemed to be unresponsive, she turned her attention to that tasty cherry pie on her plate.

Klein called again for his father, who ignored him – judging from his expression the current chapter was fascinating – and Louise started to rock her son lightly. Suddenly (and surprisingly forceful!) Klein threw his cherry at his father, hitting him on the forehead! Both Louise and Pent startled, Klein gave another "Ah-ah!" and glowered at his father. The cherry had thankfully not fallen on the book – Pent would probably have thrown a fit if it had – but bounced of his head and landed on the table.

Both adults stared at the child in shock. Klein outstretched his arms to his father and started to bounce lightly, calling again. Laughter bubbled up in Louise and she could no longer contain it when she saw her husband´s incredulous stare. He raised his eyes at her, a drop of cherry juice slowly dripping down his nose.

"Our son seems to have inherited your aim," he remarked, which made her giggling worse.

"Ah!" Klein protested when he was still ignored. Smiling, Pent took him and placed him on his lap. The boy hummed satisfied then and leaned on the table, looking around curiously.

"Here, my lord Pent," Louise said, still giggling lightly, and offered him her handkerchief. He accepted it and wiped his head. "Klein missed you these past days." He lowered his head slightly and closed the book to save the pages from grabby and cherry juice-stained fingers.

"I am sorry that I neglected both of you again." Louise just smiled and shook her head.

"You are here now." Pent leaned over to take her hand in his and squeezed it. Klein, meanwhile, snatched his father´s cherry pie and took a big bite, smearing the powdered sugar and cherry jam all over his nose and cheeks.

With a big smile, Louise watched how Pent saved his clothes (Klein´s were already lost) from sugar and jam stains and tried to clean Klein, who seemed to like being sticky and dirty, and took a sip of tea. Her day was quite wonderful.


	15. In which Fado is annoying :Fado, Vigarde

A small and completely cracky drabble XD What can I say, the prompt "Belly button" screamed for crack. Fffffffffff. Bros, of course, modern time.

* * *

Fado looked over; Vigarde was sunbathing with closed eyes. A grin crept on his face and he propped himself a bit up, leaning over. Neither Vigarde nor Hayden, who was lying on Vigarde´s other side, noticed him. Fado´s gaze trailed down to Vigarde´s belly; his trunks were low enough that Fado could see his belly button, an 'outy'.

Fado´s arm descended in a wide arc. "Boink!" He poked Vigarde´s outy quite forcefully. Vigarde jolted and gaped at the grinning Fado with wide eyes. In a matter of seconds, his face clouded with anger and irritation. He gave Fado one mighty push; the boy rolled backwards, fell from the jetty into the lake with a loud splash and yelp and a disgruntled Vigarde resumed his sunbathing – Hayden didn't even stir.


	16. Untitled Harkenness :Harken, Elbert

A prompt fill for raphi 8D Ah, Harken. I've wanted to write him for a while now. That's not what I was thinking about, but it was fun nevertheless 8D

Prompt was "Harken, Elbert, knightly duties".

* * *

The sword cut through the air with a buzz, again and again. Sweat was running down his forehead over his nose and down the side into his ear. Harken didn't let it bother him; he couldn't stop to wipe his head in a real fight so there would be no use to do it now. He had to learn to work around it. Again and again he swung his sword wide, imagining himself opposing a rider – he aimed for the horse´s chest and legs. As a foot soldier he had to fell the animal first.

The sun stood high over Pherae – it was mid summer and the air was droughty. Harken´s mouth grew drier and drier but he ignored it; he couldn't just take a sip in battle as well. A true knight could do without drink or food for a while.

His armour soon became uncomfortable, the edges poking his aching body, the metal rubbing over his clothes and chafing his skin underneath. His arms were shaking and the swings grew wobbly and imprecise. Harken tried to blink the blurriness away; in a battle he couldn't just take a rest as well.

He was forced to do a rest, though, when his right foot slipped and he crashed to the ground. Gasping, he struggled to push himself up again, but his legs buckled. He gritted his teeth in anger; on the battlefield he would be dead now.

"Harken..." He startled at the exasperated voice and inadvertently he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Lord Elbert, I-"

"Here, take this." His eyes fluttered open. His lord was kneeling next to him (kneeling!) and offered him a canteen with water.

"My lord, I-"

"Take it." Lord Elbert´s expression made it clear that this order was final. Harken accepted the water unwillingly and took a little sip – he had planned to give it back immediately afterwards, but as soon as the first drop of cold, clear water touched his tongue, his brain erased that resolve from his mind. He gulped the water down like a man dying of thirst (which was more or less true). A deep sigh escaped from his lips when he lowered the canteen.

"I thank you, my lord," he said and bowed his head.

"Harken, walk with me, will you," Lord Elbert said in return, standing up. Harken immediately followed, swaying a bit, but the dizziness quickly passed. They walked slowly, crossing the front courtyard where the soldiers always trained, to the main building – Harken feared that Lord Elbert was showing consideration for him by walking so slowly and he had a hard time to battle down the shame he felt for inconveniencing his lord. They passed through the entrance hall and directly entered the atrium, a small inner garden with a fountain in the middle. The air was fresher and pleasantly cool thanks to the water and the high walls.

Lord Elbert walked over to the fountain and stopped there; he hesitated for a second and then sat down on a stone bank in front of it. Harken dutifully positioned himself next to him. "Sit down," Lord Elbert ordered.

"I am fully able to stand, sir."

"Sit down." Harken hesitated but in the end did as he was told; an order was an order. He left enough space between them lest he seemed obtrusive. "Harken, I have watched you the last few weeks." Harken involuntarily sucked in a short breath; it couldn't mean anything good when Lord Elbert singled him out like this.

Lord Elbert ran a hand over his moustache. "Harken, I want you to take it more easy."

"My lord?" Harken asked startled.

"I admire your will and dedication, but you push it to unhealthy levels. I have seen you push yourself to a break down too often. Just like a minute ago." He threw Harken a pointed look. Harken was aghast.

"But, my lord, I do this so that I can serve you properly," he argued, almost with an edge of desperation. How could he have angered his new lord after just a few months of service? Was that how he repaid him his favour, his generosity?

"I understand that, Harken." Lord Elbert rested one hand on Harken´s shoulder. It felt so unbelievably heavy and reproachful. "But I have no use for a knight who ruins his health by overstepping his physical limits. You are destroying yourself by your training regimen." Harken´s face fell and his confidence crumbled. He didn't understand. "Not even Marcus´ training is as hard as yours!" The joke was lost on Harken and the smile that had flashed over Lord Elbert´s face quickly left again.

"My lord..." The confusion was painfully obvious in his voice and Harken felt ashamed of himself.

Lord Elbert squeezed his shoulder with sympathy in his eyes. "Harken, I know that you try to do everything right this time and that you want to prove yourself to me. But by pushing yourself so far, you only show me how little self-worth you have." Harken swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. "How about you skip your evening training today and instead join the other knights in the mess hall? Just yesterday a cargo of beer has arrived and the knights get their fair share. Relax and socialise with your fellow soldiers. Is gaining the friendship and trust of your peers not a knightly duty as well?"

When Harken looked up again, Lord Elbert was smiling. "My lord..."

"Trust me," he just said and stood up. "It will do all of you good if you understand and trust each other. It makes it easier to rely on each other." Harken nodded slowly.

"You are correct, my lord," he said lowly and raised as well. "I apologize for my thoughtlessness." He bowed deeply.

"As long as it won't happen again, you are forgiven."

"Thank you, my lord." Lord Elbert nodded to him once more before turning and leaving. As soon as he disappeared inside the building, Harken took a deep breath, letting the cool air wash through his dirty lungs. He would take it to heart and better himself. He couldn't bear to disappoint another master. Not the one who saved him by accepting and believing in him despite knowing his past.


	17. Winter Night :Lucia, Geoffrey

A cute, short anon meme fill.

* * *

Lucia slept deeply, buried under several blankets, curled up with her knees almost touching her chest. The embers in the fireplace nearby glowed dark red or grey white and spread comfortable heat in the whole room.

A sudden wave of coldness swept into the room when the bedroom door opened. Lucia shuddered and unconsciously slid further under her blankets. If she'd been awake, she would've heard bare feet slapping against the stone. She only woke when someone tugged on her blankets.

Grumbling and barely able to pry her eyes open, she raised her head a few centimetres. She made a tired and slurred mumble, which was supposed to be a "what?".

"Lucia," some whispered urgently and tugged on the blankets again. Lucia groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.

"What isit, Geoffrey?" she mumbled slightly more clearly.

"I'm cold. Can I sleep here?" Her forehead crunched up.

"What?"

"My room is so cold. The fire went out. Please?" Lucia stilled, tried to find a quick way to get rid of her brother – he'd only hog her warmth – but was too tired to think of something. When her head met the pillow, a deep sigh escaped her mouth.

"Don't let any warmth out." She heard him giggle and sighed again. He climbed onto the bed and slid quickly under the blankets. Lucia grumbled, shifted to make space for him and then settled again to finally sleep again.

"Thank you." Lucia only hm-ed. "Good night."

"G'night."


	18. Fingers :FadoHayden

Fado cannot stop flirting. Ever. I need to restrain myself more when writing him XD

* * *

Vigarde, Hayden and Fado were sitting in the ice café and minding their business. Their children were somewhere around, eating ice cream or flirting or doing whatever teenagers were doing these days. Hayden and Vigarde were talking about something; Fado didn't know about what since he wasn't listening. He was in a rather bad mood today and seemingly Hayden and Vigarde didn't want to cheer him up – it was a petty reason anyway.

Fado stared off into space, half of his mind watching the ice cream in the show boxes, the other brooding. Vigarde was drinking just a coffee while Hayden was nibbling on chocolate ice cream; Fado didn't get anything.

"Hn." Fado lazily looked over to Hayden; he was switching his ice cone from one hand to the other. Melted chocolate cream was running down over his long, slender fingers. "Do you have a napkin?" Hayden asked Vigarde. Fado blinked once, twice, watching how the chocolate drew long trails on Hayden´s pale skin.

Suddenly his own hand shot forwards and grabbed the wrist of Hayden´s. Hayden´s head whipped around to him surprised; his eyes widened when he saw what Fado wanted to do.

Fado pulled it close and licked the back of Hayden´s hand, up to the knuckles, slowly and sensual, dipping his tongue between the fingers. He sucked at the sensitive area – he heard Hayden gasp very, very lowly – and opened his lips, capturing his middle finger lightly between his teeth. There was a low smacking sound when he pulled back to drag his tongue up to Hayden´s index finger, clearing off the chocolate with tiny, kiss-like smacks.

He noticed that a few droplets of the chocolate sauce were on Hayden´s palm so he turned his hand and practically kissed it, rolling his tongue around and caressing a finger as if it were the tongue of his partner. He dragged his tongue up until the tip of the finger, capturing it between his lips and releasing it with a smack just because, and then sat back, contented.

"They make good ice cream here," he said, smiling. Hayden and Vigarde were staring at him with big eyes; especially Hayden, who seemed to be frozen and looked a bit silly with his hand just hanging there in the air. "What is it?" Fado asked good-natured.

"Fado, what was that?" Vigarde asked in return, one eyebrow raised and the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. Hayden seemed to colour a tiny bit and finally lowered his hand and wiped it clean.

"I've wanted to try the ice cream." Fado´s smile widened into a grin.

"I would've given you some on the normal way if you had asked," Hayden said a bit disgruntled.

"It probably wouldn't have tasted as good." Fado and Vigarde laughed while Hayden shook his head, took a bite of his not yet melted ice and did his best to hide his tiny, amused smile behind it.

In another corner of the ice café Innes was throwing a strange look at Eirika and Ephraim, who could only shrug their shoulders at their father´s antics.


	19. Moar Zombie Action :Eirika, Fado

**Special Contents**: Zombieness and a bit blood and death

Because Moar Zombie Action is always good. And because Eirika had to confront ZombieFado as well. With AmbiguousSeth at the end 8D Yay~ (Also, not exactly a brilliant title, but whatevs XD)

* * *

Eirika stumbled and tried to raise her sword. A particularly tall revenant crept closer. Other, smaller ones gathered around it and protected it. Eirika was sure when they killed the big one, the others would maybe flee or at least get confused. She would've never thought that the monsters could fight with something akin to tactics.

The revenant growled loudly, opening its maul wide to show off the stumps that probably had been teeth several centuries ago. Eirika pushed herself up, took a deep breath to steady her sword and tried to focus. Her gaze blurred and her left leg threatened to give in. Shaking her head, she scuffled backwards towards her troupe.

Just as the monster raised its arm and Eirika wanted to call for help, she heard footsteps. Before relief could wash over her, the reinforcement ran past, in front of her and took the blow for her. She expected to see red hair and blue armour. A part of her brain already prepared to give him a stern speech.

Her true saviour, however, made her brain shut up. Dark turquoise hair, splattered with blood, and bright green armour, tarnished with pieces of rotten monsters and mud, flashed before her. Her saviour didn't even flinch at the long wound running down from his shoulder to his hip and attacked the monster. Two clean hits – one against the monster´s arm, the other against its throat – were all it took. The tall monster fell.

Eirika stared at her saviour´s broad back, trying to catch her breath. She barely heard the screeching of the other monsters and the noise of her men coming to kill them before they could flee. Her arms shook, no longer just because of her exhaustion.

"Queen Eirika, are you alright?" she heard Seth asking behind her. She nodded numbly, trying to rip her gaze away from her saviour. But her eyes were magically drawn to the arrows sticking out of his neck, the bleeding wound on his left leg and why did he only have three fingers on his left hand?

Her saviour turned and Eirika had never thought she ever wanted to see pain on somebody´s face. His green eyes were dull and his mouth eternally pressed into a line. She should be glad that he didn't act like he was alive. She should be glad that it was so easy to differentiate between them. And yet–

Suddenly he set into motion. Eirika involuntarily took a step backwards. He stared at her, meeting her gaze, and his dead eyes send a shiver down her spine. Suddenly she was glad that she was not alone with him.

He slightly dragged his left leg. And yet even this elicited no reaction from him; he ignored the streams of blood flowing from his arm and the arrows that should've killed him long ago. Eirika´s stomach clenched – something pressed upwards. She dropped her gaze quickly and focused on a stone before her feet. The sickness surged up again and again, battling against her willpower. Taking deep breaths, she fought back as good as she could.

Loud metallic clanging made her head snap up (thankfully not worsening her sickness). Her saviour had fallen – his leg had probably given way. Eirika made an involuntary step forwards to help him up. She stopped abruptly when she noticed what she wanted to do. _Touch_ him?

Her decision was taken out of her hand when he pushed his upper body up. She saw his leg twitch. Indecisively she raised her hand – for what she did not know. It seemed as if he was thinking for a moment (could he even think for himself?). Then he crawled towards her, pulling himself forward with his one good arm and leaving bloody tracks in the earth behind him.

Eirika swallowed hard and took two steps backwards. His face was still so empty. Stoically, stubbornly, he crept closer. Subconsciously, she heard Seth step closer. Why had he only watched the whole time?

Suddenly he looked up at her. The sickness reared up and pushed hard against Eirika´s throat. She forced it back down, one hand flying up to her throat as if it would help somehow. He looked up at her with his empty eyes as if he was waiting for something. The skin in his face had grown whiter while the earth underneath him slowly turned red. Eirika shakily opened her mouth. What she should say she didn't know. The only thought in her head was that he looked like a beaten dog that had crept back to its master to receive its next order. With no will, with no dignity. She felt another wave of sickness built up.

There was a sudden "thump" and his head fell. A lance bored through his neck. Before he hit the ground, he had already turned to dust. The three arrows fell almost soundlessly.

Eirika´s head whirled around to Seth. He was staring at the ground where his lance was sticking in the earth and dust. She blinked quickly, her mouth twitching with fury. He kept his gaze down. She snapped for air, trying to force words out of her mouth, but her throat was closed by her sickness. She stumbled back, shook her head and turned. Her steps were slightly wiggly yet firm. Brandishing her sword, she walked over to her troupe, who was fighting the last of the monsters.

Seth stayed there, staring at the dust and blood, leaning on his lance. His forehead scrunched up and his eyes slowly fell shut. _I'm sorry for being selfish_, he thought. _But I couldn't stand to see you like this._ With that he took a shuddering sigh, straightened his back and followed Eirika without looking back at the greenish dust again.


	20. A Bowl of Kindness :Lucius

Written for a prompt from raphiael from waaaaaay back. I really love how this turned out.

Lucius, anybody - sharing a meal

* * *

Lucius carefully balanced two bowls with thin soup as he stepped over tent ropes and fallen weapons. It had been a long time since they last could buy (or steal) food and so Lowen´s soup had grown more watery every day. Surprisingly few people complained; probably because they were too hungry or tired.

After he stepped around a brownish tent, his gaze suddenly fell on a young girl. Lucius recognised the young mage – a quirky girl named Nino. He hadn't talked much to her, but he had seen her often with Canas. She was always prattling and had for everybody a smile in store. Even for this always glowering and quiet friend of hers.

Lucius slowly stopped in his tracks when he noticed something off about her. She was sitting cross-legged, leaning over a thick book, and gently seesawed back and forth. There was a smile on her face, but it made Lucius slightly uncomfortable.

It seemed ill-fitting. There was a small crease between her brows and her eyes were narrowed. Her nose was slightly wrinkled. This was not a happy expression. The smile was glued on – glued over the gritted teeth and downwards-tilting lips. Lucius swallowed hard and quickly shook away the feeling of familiarity.

He walked over to her. "Good evening." Nino tilted her head upwards. Her smile widened – it seemed genuine now.

"Hello. You're Father Lucius, aren't you?"

"Brother Lucius," he corrected and knelt down next to her, delicately balancing the bowls of soup. Cautiously, he put them down before he turned his full attention on Nino. He caught her staring at the soup with longing in her eyes. When she looked up, the longing had disappeared. "Have you eaten yet?"

Nino blinked surprised. "Yes," she quickly answered and nodded. Lucius raised one eyebrow and smiled kindly at her. She blushed slightly and lowered her gaze. "... I've missed dinner because Uncle Canas showed me a super interesting book. See." She set the book upright to show him the title on the binding. "It's about fire magic." She grinned at Lucius. "Uncle Canas said that I'll soon be ready to cast these spells. And then I'll be even more useful to Lord Eliwood."

"That is great," Lucius answered with a nod. "But you shouldn't sacrifice your health for your goal. Here." He offered her the bowl with slightly more vegetables in it.

"Oh, I can't take that," Nino said surprised and shook her head. "That's your food. I messed up, not you. I'll have to pay for it."

"Don't worry. That's the food of someone too lazy to get his own. He can go without food today." He smiled knowingly at her and winked. Nino frowned, staring at the soup for a moment, then at Lucius.

"Alright," she finally said and accepted the bowl. "Thank you." She smiled, leaned forward to peck Lucius on the cheek and dug in. Lucius smiled broader and stood up, taking the other bowl with him.

He quickly stepped through another row of tents and then entered his and Lord Raven´s tent. Raven sat on his cot, grinding his blade. He didn't bother to look up when he heard the tent flap.

"What took you so long?" he asked and probed his sword´s blade. He seemed to be content with its state since he put it down and accepted the soup from Lucius. Lucius just smiled and sat down on his own cot, pulling his hair over his shoulder so he wouldn't sit on it. "Where's your food?" Raven asked after taking the first sip.

"I've already eaten," Lucius answered with a serene smile. Raven tsked lowly.

"That's why you've been gone for so long?"

"Yes."


	21. A Tale of Twins :Duessel, Lyon

Written for a prompt from raphiael. Squishy Lyon is squishy. Also, yay Duessel.

* * *

"And what did they do then?"

"Well, they–"

"Did they flee? Or were they caught?"

"Calm down, my prince," Duessel said laughing. "I will tell you if you let me." Lyon blushed and sat back down, folding his hands in his lap. Duessel smiled down at the young prince. He hadn't seen him this excited for quite some while. "Well, after the soldiers noticed that a lance was missing in the armoury, they told King Fado. The men were all confused who would've taken a lance without telling somebody. King Fado, though, seemed to have an idea."

"And where were you?" Lyon asked.

"I was with the king at the time. So the king sent a man to fetch Prince Ephraim." A big grin crept on Lyon´s face and he leaned forward with excitement. "The prince came and looked at his father calmly. 'You called for me, father?' he said. 'There is a lance missing. Do you know where it could be?' asked the king. Ephraim shook his head. 'Of course not, father.' he answered. He looked innocent and I almost believed him. King Fado smiled. 'Then we will find nothing if we look through your room and your hiding places?' Prince Ephraim was faltering but he straightened and declared confidently that he didn't take the lance."

"But they did!" Lyon interjected. Duessel nodded indulgently.

"Oh yes. Prince Ephraim couldn't convince his father, though, and men were sent to look for the lance. Prince Ephraim had to stay with us so that he couldn't go and hide the lance somewhere else."

"And did they find the lance?" Lyon was sitting on the edge of his chair, almost bursting with thrills of joy.

"The men searched for a while and in the end came back with empty hands. They said they searched everywhere and couldn't find it. The king was very surprised and Prince Ephraim was grinning from ear to ear. 'See, I didn't take it,' he then said. King Fado was flustered, but also a bit suspicious, I believe. He was pretty sure that Prince Ephraim was the culprit."

"And where was the lance?" Lyon almost bounced up and down; he wanted to hear the end of the tale now! Duessel laughed.

"Well, who else knew of the lance?" he asked instead. Lyon thought hard for a moment, frowning in concentration.

"Princess Eirika!" he exclaimed. Duessel nodded.

"Exactly. Princess Eirika had heard that the soldiers were searching for the lance and quickly took it from its hiding place to protect her brother. So the soldiers couldn't find it."

Lyon´s smile faltered a bit. It took Duessel slightly aback, but he tried not to show it. "King Fado let Prince Ephraim go. Unfortunately, Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika were seen with the lance the next day." His smile turned slightly crooked. "They were punished severely for lying, but Prince Ephraim said that it was not so bad. Training with the lance was worth it." Amused Duessel shook his head. "He will be a great soldier one day."

"I wish I had siblings," Lyon said lowly. Duessel blinked slowly and lowered his gaze to the young prince. Lyon kicked his legs lightly against his chair. "It sounds fun to have siblings."

"I'm sorry, my prince," was all Duessel could think of. Lyon shook his head. "Well, maybe you can visit Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika one day. Then you could play together. Wouldn't that be nice?" He smiled at the prince encouragingly. When Lyon looked up at him, a small smile was on his face. "They would like that very much, I believe."

"Me too," Lyon whispered.


	22. Rage :Renning, Geoffrey

Written for a prompt from raphiael. I like Renning.

* * *

A cold breeze was running over the land, Renning noticed as he stood motionless in the courtyard. He was overlooking the yard, with half of his mind watching the soldiers training. His mind was not completely there. As always. Ever since his mind had been cleared from the strange madness, it was never completely with him. His consciousness was always slipping away, focusing on unimportant things like decoration, specks on tables or clothes, cracks in stone or wood, on a humming in the air or many other things that shouldn't distract him. Renning had learned to deal with it – yet had not accepted it.

"Lord Renning," someone called from behind. Renning blinked slowly; his mind had wandered again without him noticing it. He turned and nodded once at the young general.

"Geoffrey, I told you to call me 'Uncle' when we're in private."

"Ah, yes, of course." Geoffrey inclined his head with an apologetic smile. Renning had expected this; it always took Geoffrey some time to get accustomed to changes that were not related to fighting and battles. "What are you doing here, Uncle Renning?" Renning´s mouth twitched into a smile at the obvious awkwardness in Geoffrey´s voice.

"I was contemplating if one of those boys would be a challenge for me."

"I don't believe so, my lord. None of our soldiers could ever beat you." Renning sighed inwardly at Geoffrey. Sometimes his trust in Renning´s abilities made him uncomfortable. Especially since he himself was not sure of them anymore.

"Well, if that is so, what about our general?" he asked Geoffrey, smiling. "You have beaten me once. You seem like an adequate challenge." Geoffrey straightened lightly.

"If you wish so. I will fetch my lance." Geoffrey bowed to him and quickly left. Renning released a tired sigh through his nose; some day Geoffrey would hopefully stop being so very cordial with him. Renning thought of him as family, not just as a soldier or subordinate, and he wished that some day Geoffrey would do it as well.

When he felt his mind wander again, he shook his head and concentrated on the lance in his hand. He gripped it tightly, twisting it in his hand so that the leather of his gloves gnashed. His gaze focused on a tiny crack in the wood, tracing it up and down, never swaying away. He was still doing that when Geoffrey returned a few minutes later. Only then Renning relaxed again.

"Very well, sir," Geoffrey said and took a fighting stance, aiming the tip of his lance at Renning´s chest. "I'm ready when you are." Renning smiled lightly as he shifted. At least this felt and was like he remembered.

Without warning, Geoffrey attacked as soon as Renning had raised his lance. He was slightly surprised by that, but quickly pushed the boy – for he still couldn't stop thinking of Geoffrey as a boy sometimes – back. Geoffrey immediately attacked again, aiming for Renning´s right arm this time. Renning quickly sidestepped and countered.

They exchanged many quick blows and soon sweat started to gather on Renning´s forehead. Geoffrey was taking this seriously and attacked with all of his force. He was no longer hesitant; no longer the thought of Renning´s time as... a monster held him back and made him go easy on him. Inwardly, Renning smiled. Finally, Geoffrey made him feel normal again. Almost relieved and with happiness, he swung wide against Geoffrey´s head – the general easily avoided it.

After a while though, when Renning´s arms grew heavier (too quickly) and Geoffrey started to gain the upper hand, Renning felt something stir within him. Some emotion deep within his chest woke up and slowly crept into his blood. He felt a strange heat seep into his arms and legs. New strength flashed through him. But with the strength came the heat. It shot into his head, wrapped itself around his heart and Renning felt his mind slipping. Suddenly he felt anger. Hate. Thirst and lust for blood. His vision swam and he could barely see Geoffrey anymore; he only saw blue and the flash of metal.

A deep growl crept through his lungs up to his mouth. Suddenly his mind snapped back and focused on Geoffrey, his vision clearing. _Kill, kill, kill!_, ran through his head and oozed into each nook and cranny of his body.

"Stop!" For a moment Renning didn't know who had yelled that, but whoever it was, it snapped him from his stupor. The lance fell from his hands and he let his knees buckle. His mind whirled and twisted and he couldn't think clearly. He was encompassed by red fog.

"Sir? Lor– Uncle Renning, are you alright?" Renning felt Geoffrey´s hand pressing on his shoulder armour. Breathing heavily, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to collect his mind by focusing completely on Geoffrey´s voice. "What happened?"

"Geoffrey–" Renning blurted out, but immediately had to close his mouth again because a wave of sickness washed over him. Geoffrey was still for a while and Renning hastily focused his mind on his body so that he didn't lose it again. He was shaking lightly, sweat was dribbling from his hair down his neck into his armour, and, thankfully, the sickness was quickly ebbing away. The heat was gone.

"Shall I call a healer?"

"No. No, I am well again." Renning pushed himself to his feet and opened his eyes after taking a deep breath. Geoffrey looked at him concerned.

"What happened?" he asked again while Renning picked up his lance. "Why did you suddenly yell 'stop'?"

"That was me?" Renning asked confused. Geoffrey frowned worried.

"We should really go see the healers," he said with a shake of his head and grabbed Renning´s arm. For a split second, Renning contemplated to free himself and deny everything. But then the memory of the heat and the infinite anger shot up and he only nodded.

"Yes, we should." Tired, he smiled at Geoffrey and let the young man accompany him into the castle. He was not sure if he should be glad or feel embarrassed.


	23. Celebration :Bastian, Lucia

Written for a prompt from penandpaper (on lj).

* * *

"And another day was born, as beautiful as its mother now passed. 'Tis shall fill my heart with euphoria until-"

Lucia sighed to herself and shook her head. "Bastian, what are you doing again?"

With a brilliant smile, he whirled around to her, arms outstretched. Lucia was blinded by the bright morning light falling through the open window behind him. She shielded her eyes from the light with her hand. "I am greeting the new day, my lady."

"Why?"

"Because it is beautiful." Lucia put her free hand on her hip. His smile didn't falter. "And beauty has to be celebrated."

"Since you find beauty in so many things, you'll have no time for anything else than celebrating."

"Fear not, my lady," he exclaimed and bowed effusively to her, "I will always find the time to praise you as much as you deserve." Lucia tsked and turned back to the documents on the table in front of her; otherwise she wouldn't have come to his room this early in the morning. "Do you not... believe that a new day, the fact that the world continues – life itself flourishes and hope is reborn – is not worth celebrating?"

Lucia hesitated, slowly lowering the stack of papers in her arms. Her gaze flickered over to him; his smile was smaller, warmer and in a sense truer than his broad smile. Then she turned away, staring into nothing.

A small smile crept on her face. "You are right," she finally said.

"Most excellent," he exclaimed and in less than a second he stood next to her. "Then let us celebrate this delicious breakfast together." Lucia rolled her eyes, her smile still firmly fixed on her face.

"Count, I have work to do." Without waiting for an answer, she slipped away and out of the door.

"Hah," he sighed and shook his head amused. "Well then." Rubbing his hands, he sat down and leaned over his breakfast tray. "I shall celebrate this wonderful coffee on my own."


	24. Dancing :Joshua, Natasha

Written for a prompt from raphiael: Joshua, Natasha - dancing.

* * *

"Excuse me?" Natasha asked startled. Above her stood Joshua, his hand extended for her and with a broad, charming smile on his face.

"Would you dance with me?" He jerked his head over to where a few merchants they had met earlier and who they were guarding in exchange for goods until the next town were playing instruments and singing loudly. Several members of their little army were sitting with them, clapping in tact with the music or singing.

"Now?" Natasha asked to gain some time until she could judge if he was serious or not.

"Of course now." He laughed. "If you don't hurry, the song will be over." Natasha´s gaze flew over to the singing group again. Forde had pulled a shy Neimi close and was whirling around with her while Colm secretly glared at them. "Alright, how about a bet?"

Smiling to herself, she looked up at him. "Joshua-" He cut her off.

"Heads, and we dance. Tails, and I'll leave you alone." He already got out his coin and readied himself for the toss. Natasha sighed inwardly and smiled amused at the same time.

"Alright." Joshua snipped the coin high into the air and eagerly bend down when the coin hit the ground. He looked quite disappointed when he looked up.

"Tails," he sighed. "Lady Luck doesn't want to see me dance. Too bad, because I'm quite good." He already turned to leave, but Natasha grabbed him by his sleeve. Joshua looked at her surprised.

"You didn't let me answer." He blinked surprised. "Yes, I want to dance with you." A big grin spread across his face.

"Great!" He snagged her hand, pulled her up a bit too forcefully and, slinging his arm around her, danced with her over to the others. Natasha laughed and let him spin her around and around until both of them were dizzy.


	25. Potatoes or Death! :Wallace, Vaida

Written for the prompt "Give me the potatoes or give me death!" from fic_promptly on Dreamwidth.

Wallace :3

* * *

Wallace stomped through the camp with an uncharacteristically angry frown on his face. His armour screeched and metal scraped against metal quite loudly. When his gaze caught a flash of red and yellow and his ears picked up a familiar crunch, he whirled around and yelled: "Ha! There I found you, thief!" The blonde woman threw an annoyed glance at him and chewed slowly.

"What is it, teapot?" Vaida said after swallowing.

"Have you sunken so low, Viper, that you now steal my potatoes?" Furious, he pointed at the half-eaten potato in her hand.

Vaida´s eyebrows drew together into a glare. "Do not call me a thief. I got them from that nervous merchant for Umbriel." Wallace spotted the small bag in her other hand.

"You foul liar," he returned. "These are my potatoes. I know it!" Vaida tsked annoyed. "Give me the potatoes or give me death!" In one smooth motion he pulled his axe from his back and took an attack stance. Anger and pride (and a whiff battle lust) flared up in her eyes for a second, but she quickly seemed to decide that this was no fight worth fighting.

"Fine." Wallace was startled out of his position. Vaida threw the bag over to him. He caught it as he straightened. "I have better things to do than argue with an old fool like you. Umbriel'll get a few more books from the shaman as a treat." Without another glance back at him, she continued her walk and took another bite out of her last potato. Slightly flustered Wallace opened the bag, grabbed a potato to snack on and pondered if he should share his potatoes with that Viper´s big lizard because potato lovers should be supportive of each other as he walked back to his tent.


	26. Snowblind :Vigarde, Lyon

Written for an older prompt from fic_promptly on dreamwidth. It just sung to me 8D

* * *

The freshly fallen snow crunched loudly under Vigarde´s boots. His breath turned into white fog in the instant it left his mouth. The air was crisp and the coldness hurt his skin.

"The main entrance to the mines is 10 miles in that direction," a man with a heavy fur cloak, a goatee and a fur cap hiding his short red hair; he was the overseer of the mines in this region. Vigarde nodded and threw a glance at the mountain in the distance.

"Eep." Vigarde looked over his shoulder at the source of the squeak. Lyon hastily pushed himself up, swaying a bit because it was hard to find his balance again while shaking the tiny ice crystals from his face and hair, and hurried to catch up. He had to pull his legs up high; the snow went far over his knees and he was a short five-year-old to begin with.

Vigarde turned to his guide again. "Are the mines accessible during the winter?"

"They are, but you can't go very deep. Water often gathers on the stones and freezes." The overseer raised one gloved hand and wiped over his beard. It was covered with frost and Vigarde guessed that by now his beard was white as well. "Our workers know that, but sometimes travellers go missing." The man shrugged. "Nothing we can do." Vigarde frowned, but nodded. "We try to warn travellers that come by, but, well, if there's an emergency or if they don't listen..." He shrugged again.

Vigarde sighed lowly and asked the man to give him a short report about the output of the mines for this year. Soon Vigarde was immersed in a conversation with the overseer and forgot that Lyon was walking behind them.

Until someone suddenly grabbed his hand and he startled, involuntarily pulling his hand away.

"Father," Lyon said in a whiny tone and clutched tighter. Vigarde´s lips pressed into a thin line with the corners turned slightly downwards when he saw that Lyon was tearing up and his eyes pressed close. His hand twitched. "My eyes hurt." Lyon turned his face up to him. Vigarde shifted lightly and turned his gaze away without turning his head.

"What happened?" the overseer asked and crouched down next to Lyon. Lyon turned to him and clutched Vigarde´s hand tighter.

"The snow is so bright." The man nodded.

"I understand. That happens often." Vigarde blinked confused and his stance and expression relaxed. The overseer looked up to him. "That's snow blindness. It's pretty common for people who don't live in snowy regions. The sun reflecting on the snow is so bright that you get blinded. It's the same when you look directly in the sun." Standing up, the man released a deep breath and a large cloud of white fog. "Just keep your eyes closed and stay in a dark room for a while. In a few hours everything will be fine again." A small, relieved smile appeared on Lyon´s smile.

The man turned to Vigarde. "Even my brother, who grew up here, still gets snow-blind every time he comes to visit." The man laughed heartily. "And when we get back to the mansion, my master has to tell you the story of General Willem, who was too proud to admit he was blinded." He shook his head amused and his eyes twinkled. "Always worth to tell."

A smile tugged at Vigarde´s mouth and he nodded. "I will certainly ask him." When he looked down at Lyon, he was still smiling. Then he threw back his fur coat over his shoulder, bent down to pick up a surprised Lyon and sat him on his hip. As soon as Lyon had took a hold on his shirt, Vigarde pulled his cloak over him. "This will suffice until we return."

Vigarde felt Lyon snuggled closer when the overseer and he continued the walk and the conversation.


	27. Step up! :Ashnard

Written for a prompt from fic_promptly on dreamwidth; "Any, any, Step right up, gentlemen. Don't miss your chance to commit treason."

* * *

There are whispers all around him when the doctor enters the throne room and declares the king dead. The whispers grow into half-shouted discussions when the steward steps forward, wiping cold sweat from his neck, and declares that only Ashnard is left.

A grin spreads on his face and he pushes through the throng to the throne. The shouts have turned into whispers again and Ashnard sees shock, disbelief and distrust on the faces he passes. A chuckle gathers low in his throat. He steps onto the dais the throne is standing on and turns to them. A new wave of whispers flare up as they see his grin.

"My lord," the steward says and Ashnard shifts so that his back is still turned to him. Taken aback, the steward almost chokes on his words and falls silent.

"Step right up, gentlemen," Ashnard calls and opens his arms. The assembled fall silent and stare up at him confused. "Don't miss your chance to commit treason. Now is still time." He can barely contain his laugh when they look at each other with wide eyes and wonder what he means. Nobody says anything. Only few dare to look at him again.

There is no longer shock on their faces. Only distrust and fear are left. Ashnard´s grin widens.

"There are no objections," he says over his shoulder to the steward. "Prepare the coronation." The steward nods quickly and hastens away. Ashnard lets his gaze roam over the assembly again; Daein is finally his and his alone.


	28. Impression :Hayden

Written for fiction_drabbles on dreamwidth, prompt Impression.

* * *

The first thing Hayden noticed was Fado´s broad grin.

He couldn't call it anything but face-splitting; the corners of his mouth seemed to try to reach Fado´s ears. Almost all of his teeth were showing and seemed surprisingly white against his tanned skin (and the summer had just begun!).

The foreign boy surprised Hayden a bit. With this big grin, the wild mop of hair and the constant fidgeting, Fado was so different from the people Hayden met every day. They were much more reserved and calm. Just like Hayden himself.

Hayden found Fado´s grin oddly charming.


	29. At the Coffee Corner :GeoffreyElincia

Written for a prompt from fic_promptly on dreamwidth; Author's Choice, Author's Choice, zie owns a coffeeshop/works at a coffeeshop and is falling in love with a customer.

* * *

The first rush of the day had just died down and Geoffrey started to wipe the tables at the front windows when the tiny bell above the door jingled. He only saw a flash of dark green hair in the corner of his eyes as the spilled coffee stain on table 3 kept him quite occupied. When the dark wood was finally clean, Geoffrey picked up his tray and turned. Her back was turned to him and his gaze got caught on her hair again. It was such a beautiful and rich colour. And the golden hair clip that held up part of her hair was an eye-catcher as well. Involuntarily, Geoffrey slowed down and watched her; she laughed once at something Geoffrey´s co-worker said and put a banknote down.

"I'll sit over there." Geoffrey heard her say and saw her gesture over her shoulder to one of the tables he had just cleared. Then she turned and he almost stopped walking. Something about her – maybe it was her pink lips or her gentle smile or just the elegant arc of her eyebrows – made his heart do flips. Their gaze met only for a second; she nodded to him in greeting and then turned her attention to her table.

Feeling a wave of embarrassment at his obvious staring, Geoffrey hastened into the tiny kitchen of the café and washed dishes and prepared food for quite some time. When he finally had nothing to do anymore, he peeked out in the serving room; she was gone.

###

She came back the next day. Geoffrey was at the counter this time and no one was near to relieve him. He had already identified her when she walked past the big front windows; he would've recognized her hair everywhere. Her smile was brilliant as she stepped in front of the counter. Geoffrey straightened and tried to hide his quick breathing.

"The shop is awfully quiet today," she said and tilted her head oh-so-slightly. Geoffrey hoped that his friendly smile didn't betray his nervousness.

"It's a strange gift." As soon as those words had left his mouth, Geoffrey screamed at himself inwardly. _'It's a strange gift'! Who talks like that?_

"Understandable," she said, laughing.

"What do you want today?" Geoffrey quickly said and readied himself to enter the order in the computer.

"Today I want something sweet. Can you recommend something?" Her question took him by surprise and for a split-second he fumbled for words. Her smile had turned warmer, he thought.

"Something chocolate-y or fruity?"

"Mmh..." She tapped her index finger against her lower lip. Geoffrey forced himself not to look and be more professional. "Chocolate-y."

"We have great hot chocolate and mocha. We also have some syrups to add more flavour; Vanilla, Caramel, Toffee, Hazelnut, Walnut..."

"Mh, I do need coffee today." Her eyes twinkled. "A vanilla mocha." Geoffrey nodded and punched it into the computer, secretly quite glad that he had to turn away from her to make the coffee. While he set the coffee machine into motion and added the syrup, he heard her fumble through her purse and drop coins on the counter.

After he had filled the cup with hot milk and foam, he hesitated. His gaze flickered to the little bottle with chocolate syrup. His teeth grazed over his lower lip; his idea _was_ a bit risky. But when his gaze flickered over to her and she smiled at him so beautifully again, a decision was made.

Geoffrey quickly placed the cup on the counter and grabbed the money, completely avoiding to look at her. He kept his gaze low as he entered the amount and collected her charge. Unfortunately, he had to look at her when he offered her the money.

The happiness on her face made his blood shoot into his cheeks. She held the cup close to her lips, some of the foam was already missing. The smiley he had painted on it was still intact and smiled back at him.

"Have a nice day," he mumbled – his hand with the change hang in the air quite awkwardly. When she took it from him, it seemed like she touched his fingers deliberately.

"I think I will." Her gaze stayed on him until she pulled back her chair and sat down. During her whole stay, though, they exchanged gaze every now and then and when she had finally finished her coffee, she ambled to the counter again. Geoffrey regarded her curiously, heart beating loudly in his ears.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"I'm Geoffrey."

"Elincia." She offered him her hand and a tad confused he accepted it. He felt paper against his palm. "It's nice to meet you," Elincia said, winked at him and let go of his hand. Geoffrey balled his hand for a second before he opened it again; there was a small piece of paper. Before he could inspect the message, he heard the bell jingle again and the last thing he saw of her that day was her dark green her swaying behind her as she jogged away.

Geoffrey quickly unfolded the paper; there was a cell phone number and a little note. _Call around 7 pm, Love, Elincia._ A stupid grin entered Geoffrey´s face and for the rest of the day not one customer managed to anger or frustrate him.


	30. Coffee Artist :BastianLucia

A second prompt for the last fill from fic_promptly. I just had to write this XD I felt the other fill fit the original prompt better, so this is just a ... leftover. A fun leftover.

* * *

The coffee shop was surprisingly modest in appearance, at least in contrast to its owner. Lucia had found it only by chance; there were barely any signs and you had to look through the windows to even see the tables. There was no real counter, only a slightly bigger table in the corner. On a glimpse, it almost could be an eccentric living-room. One of Lucia´s friends, however, knew the shop and had taken her there months ago. Lucia was still not sure if that was a great mistake or not.

It was disgustingly cold and Lucia let go a sigh of relief when she stepped into the cosily warm coffee shop. The smell of ground coffee was strong and made her craving for caffeine skyrocket. A young man was standing at the coffee machine behind the counter and half-turned to her when she knocked on the high table.

"Hi, Miss. I'll be there for you in a sec." Lucia smiled and nodded.

"No problem, Ethan." He quickly finished grinding the coffee, sealed the bag and placed it in the tiny rack standing on the counter, where they sold a small selection of their tasty drug.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss Lucia?"

"One macchiato."

"Alright, that'll be 2,60-" Ethan was rudely interrupted by the loud creaking of the kitchen door. The owner, a man in his early 30s, threw it open quite dramatically.

"Are my ears betraying me again or did I truly hear the name of the one who occupies my heart all day?" Lucia rolled her eyes at him. His golden locks were held back in a ponytail and today his beard was cropped short and not as 'dramatically' styled as the last time. "Lovely Miss Lucia, you are gracing our tiny establishment with your presence again. What a joyous day!"

"I only want a coffee, not a poem about my beauty, Bastian," she said with a deadpan expression. Ethan kept his gaze low and tried to stifle his giggles while writing down her order.

"What does Her Loveliness want?" Bastian asked the giggly waiter.

"One macchiato," Lucia answered for him.

"You will have it in less than a second!" Bastian exclaimed, whirled around and disappeared in the kitchen. Lucia handed Ethan her money, they exchanged a knowing (and amused) glance and then Lucia sat down at one of the tables close to the window.

She had barely shrugged out of her coat when she noticed a young, green-haired woman running towards the coffee shop. Lucia waved her over. A second later, the woman, who seemed to get lost under the many layers of clothes she was wearing, entered the shop.

"Ellie." They hugged shortly and Elincia started to take off one layer after the other.

"It's so cold!" she exclaimed after her face was finally visible again. "I really should've taken the car today."

"What can I bring you?" Ethan called over from the counter.

"Uhm," Elincia turned to him. "Do you have Lattes?"

"Of course."

"Vanilla?"

"Can do." Ethan opened the kitchen door slightly and repeated the order to Bastian. Elincia meanwhile had taken off all of her protective clothes and sat down opposite of Lucia.

"The shop is really cute." Elincia threw a quick glance around. Lucia gave her a crooked smile.

"Yeah, it's nice but it has its... negative sides." Before Elincia could ask her to elaborate, the kitchen door was thrown open again. With his apron fluttering about him, Bastian walked out, holding a white cup in his hand.

"Here is your macchiato, Miss Lucia." With a motion that was far more flourishing than needed, he placed the cup before her. "Your coffee will be here in a second," he said to Elincia, smiling broadly.

"Bastian, what is this?" Lucia asked him after taking a long look at her cup.

"Is something not to your liking, my love?" Lucia raised both her eyebrows and pointed at her coffee. Bastian had painted the face of a cute little milk lion on the dark coffee.

"Oh my goodness, how cute," Elincia whispered.

"How am I supposed to drink this?" Bastian blinked surprised and Elincia could only copy his expression. "I cannot destroy this." Lucia threw another long look at her coffee; the milk lion seemed to smile cutely at her. "Why can you not bring me a normal coffee?"

"You deserve far better than a normal coffee," Bastian exclaimed and nodded to himself. "Besides, I'm a coffee _artist_."

"What else can you do?" Elincia asked enthused.

"Whatever you want," he said proudly. "Flowers, hearts, birds. Imagination knows no limits."

"Can I get a bird?"

"Of course, my dear." Bastian whirled around and disappeared in the kitchen again. Elincia was grinning broadly when she looked back at Lucia. Lucia was carefully sipping her coffee. Her lips barely touched the cup.

"Lucia, it's just milk." Lucia threw a strangely blank look at her. Elincia had to do a double-take; was Lucia blushing?

Only moments later, Bastian appeared again and placed a cup in front of Elincia. "How cute," she breathed and gingerly grabbed her cup. Lucia leaned over to look.

"A white robin for our new customer."

"That looks like a chick," Lucia commented. Elincia threw her A Look. Bastian huffed.

"Well, My Loveliness, a chick would certainly have a rounder body and a shorter beak. This is far too delicate for a chick."

"It's a chick. Just look at the big head. And the body is round."

"Very well! The next time you grace me with your presence, I will present a true robin to you." Bastian bowed to her, which surprised both Lucia and Elincia. "Ethan, take care of the shop, I have to practice!"

"Aye, sir!" Ethan exclaimed and saluted, grinning broadly. As soon as Bastian had disappeared in the kitchen again, he broke out in giggles – Elincia followed his example. Lucia only sighed and sipped her coffee. Elincia threw one sad gaze at her coffee and then finally stirred it. They drunk in silence for while – Elincia threw amused looks at Lucia the whole time and eventually she had enough.

"What are you doing?" Lucia asked her friend with one raised eyebrow. Elincia forced her grin to be just a smile.

"Well, I'm just wondering..."

"About what?" Elincia put down her cup and looked Lucia fully in the eye.

"Well, were we anywhere else, you would've snarled at him for flirting with you like that." Elincia didn't even need to ask further since Lucia picked up her cup and drank to hide her light blush behind the pottery. Elincia stifled a giggle.

"He has an odd charm," she just answered.

"That he has." Elincia let the topic drop for the moment, but over the next few weeks she had much fun with teasing Lucia about the dramatic coffee artist who could flirt with her with no punishment.


	31. All the Children :SerraOswin

Written for a prompt fromfic_promptly: Author's choice, author's choice, "Any child who is sick, scared, hungry, lost or abused is your child." Both Lucius and Serra almost immediately came to mind and I liked Serra better. Pairing her with Oswin just was... the easiest? I dunno, it seemed to fit. I'm honestly not sure if I managed to write Serra well. Hmmm, she's hard to write.

Also, this is the first time that a summary I wrote embarrasses me. Oy.

* * *

Oswin raised his eyebrows in surprise when the opening and closing of the door wasn't accompanied by a loud greeting. There were only the sounds of quick feet and hushed whispers. He sighed, half annoyed and half good-natured. Standing up quietly, he slipped through the slightly ajar door of his private room and tiptoed to the bathroom, where the voice had disappeared in.

He knocked once, called "Serra?" and then entered. The pink-haired woman whirled around to face him, hands on her hips, and trying to hide the cowering child behind her. Oswin´s gaze immediately fell to the dirty and thin little thing who made a grab for Serra´s clean robes. "Another one?"

"Yes," Serra answered and turned to the little girl. "Come, sweetie, let's clean you up. Oswin, get her some clothes." She glowered at him when he opened his mouth to protest. It shut him up quite thoroughly. He stayed for a moment, though, and watched how Serra grabbed a towel and soap, led the girl over to the water basin and helped her clean herself. He fetched one of Serra´s robes, placed them on a chair that he dragged over to the bathroom door and then ordered a servant to get some warm food.

He stayed in his private rooms while Serra and the girl left the bathroom, the servant brought the food and the little girl ate. Probably an hour had passed when Serra finally entered and sat on a chair next to him.

"She looked horrible."

"I know."

"She would've starved or frozen to death!"

"I know." He signed the document in front of him and grabbed the next one.

"She has no parents who can take care of her. She's living on the _streets_." The disdain was clear in her voice.

"I know." Blindly, he reached out and took one of her hands.

"It's my duty as a priestess of Elimine to help children in need. And I am far too good and generous to leave such a poor thing in such poverty." He squeezed her hand.

"I know, Serra. And the girl is surely thankful." She squeezed his hand back.

"Oswin..."

"Serra, thanks to your and Lord Hector´s efforts the orphanage has become a good place. She'll be in good hands." He heard her hmph-ing. "I know you want to give them all a loving home, but we can't. I'm sorry." She sighed loudly and stood up; Oswin held her back. "Serra?"

"I have to talk to the headmistress." He looked up at her now, smiling. The stubborn and almost pouting expression could barely hide the sadness in her eyes.

"You have the means to help them now," he said slowly and looked her directly in the eye. Her gaze lightened up a bit and she smiled again. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and nodded.

"Before we go there, I'll buy her a pretty new dress, though," she exclaimed and her cheerful persona was almost completely back.

"Please do."


	32. Can a skull mend? :Nino

Written for a prompt from fic_promptly on dreamwidth; Any, any, Can a skull mend?

Edited because of two stupid typos.

* * *

Nino stumbled – crawled, ran, tumbled – back to camp, her ears buzzing, her temples throbbing. She barely felt her body; she just somehow moved. Her breath sounded ragged but dumb to her ears. She knew her hands were wet with blood, but she couldn't feel it. Tears came to her eyes when she finally saw the first tents and her legs threatened to buckle underneath her.

"No, please," she moaned. "I have to-" She swallowed hard and her spit tasted metallic. Her stomach turned. "Uncle Canas." Her eyes swam in tears and she almost fell into the first tent. Out of the corners of her blurry eyes she saw a bloody imprint of fingers on the beige cloth. She sniffled loudly.

She fell over several tent ropes and soon her knees were throbbing with pain. At least she felt a part of her body again. Nino dragged her sleeve over her eyes and nose and her vision cleared a bit. Suddenly there were people in front of her and she pushed through them, mumbling apologies, but she wasn't sure if they understood her. She just wanted to get to the infirmary.

Finally – finally! – the big tent appeared in front of her and she wanted to laugh in relief, but the laugh sounded much more like a sob. Nino stormed in, almost falling through the tent entrance. "Uncle Canas!" she called – her voice sounded shrill in her ears.

"Nino!" a voice exclaimed next to her and before she knew what happened a white and pink blur pulled her to the side. "Nino, you look horrible. Come, Priscilla will take care of you."

"N-no," she interrupted and clutched Serra´s sleeve tightly. "Uncle Canas! Please-" Her lips trembled; the memory came back – she could _feel_ it again. His hair against her fingers, his blood and the broken bone _and then __it gave away_ and her fingers entered his-

Nino hiccuped, vomit pressing against her throat. Serra pulled her away, into a darker part of the tent, and forced Nino to bend over a bucket. "Serra..." she asked with a weak voice and looked up at the cleric, her eyes swimming with tears. "Can a skull mend?" Nino couldn't see Serra´s reaction; the vomit was passing her throat and entering her mouth. Coughing and crying, Nino threw up in the bucket.

She felt Serra rubbing her back; Nino sobbed loudly. "Priscilla'll come for you in a moment," Serra said and her hand disappeared. Nino squeezed her eyes close, her body shaking like a leaf in a storm. Then another hand was on her back and calming words were whispered into her ears. But Nino could only sob; she didn't even had the energy to repeat her question. _Can a skull mend?_


	33. Lashes :FemHayden, Fado

Just found this thing again and thought "Hey, why not post it. It's finished anyway". And so here it is 8D I've written far too few stories with genderbending lately.

Eira is FemHayden´s name.

* * *

Eira had never seen a boy with eyelashes as long as Fado's.

It had been one of the first things she had noticed when she first met him – and she noticed many strange little things about him – but back then it was nothing more than a fleeting thought. But as she now sat with him in the library years later, pouring over books, the thought suddenly re-emerged. Involuntarily, her gaze flickered over to him.

His head was hanging low over the book, resting on both his fists. His hair fell over his forehead and almost hid his eyes from her. He frowned lightly – probably more out of boredom than anything else, Eira guessed. From his frown her gaze travelled downwards to his nose and eyes.

His lashes were not only long but also thick; they were fanned out evenly and somehow reminded Eira of one of her watercolour brushes. They were casting long, fine shadows on his cheeks and hid his eyes almost completely. Eira couldn't help but admire them; they were so pretty. Which seemed strange because she would never call Fado _pretty_. Big, strong, rough, thick-headed were the first words that came to mind when she thought of him, not pretty or fine.

Maybe this contrast was why she couldn't stop staring at the moment. Comparing this to what she knew about him was just so weird and amusing (and she needed some amusement since she had finished her reading almost half an hour ago and was just waiting for Fado).

Suddenly vivid green eyes looked back at her. The only manifestation of her surprise was quick blinking; she had become really good at keeping her face blank over the last years. Fado scowled at her.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm just wondering if I'll be able to leave the library before dinner." He snorted and sat back, sighing deeply and stretching his arms over his head.

"Nobody is holding you back." Her mouth quirked up into a half-smile.

"So I'm supposed to leave you alone, letting you rot over those books?"

"Heh." Despite his obvious bad mood, a smile spread over his face.

"Where are you?" Eira asked and leaned over, her eyes skimming the first few sentences. "Fado, you've barely read anything!" He groaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes and cheeks. "You're still in year 386." Eira shook her head and sat back. "If you continue reading at this speed, we're really sitting here until dinner."

"I know," he sighed. "But it's so… dull." Eira tsked and pulled the book over to her. Fado just leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

"But you've just reached the passage about the battle at Moster. That was an exceptional battle. How can that bore you? Queen Levia practically wiped out her enemies without losing even a third of her men. So many intriguing strategies were developed and used around that time. And just look at the aftermath and the developments and–" She stopped abruptly. Her head whirled around and she was not exactly surprised that he was watching her intently. "Fado."

"What is it?"

"Are you trying to make me explain this to you?" He thought for a moment.

"No, but that is a great idea." Eira sighed and shook her head, pushing the book over the table back to him.

"Use your own head and eyes." Fado groaned again, rubbing his eyes. Suddenly he flinched and gave a little yelp of pain. "What is it?" Eira asked, worried, and leaned over to him.

"I've got something in my eye." Frowning, Eira pulled his hands from his face; he was squeezing his right eye close.

"Let me…" Gently, she pried his lids open. "Ah, there's a lash in your eye." Fado grumbled and his eye tried to twitch close. Very cautiously, she reached for the stray lash and tried to wipe it off. After she managed to get it out, she amusedly noted that now she was so close to his pretty eyelashes that she could inspect them even better. She couldn't refrain from wiping over his now closed eye (as if she was cleaning it from other loose eyelashes) and noticed they were soft to her touch. Not as much as her paintbrush though.

"Thank you," Fado said, blinking quickly, as she sat down again.

"Was this a try to get around your reading?" Eira asked jokingly and crossed her arms. Fado laughed.

"No, but my eye is truly too wounded now to continue. How about a little ride until it gets better?" He flashed her his typical disarming grin and since Eira knew that he probably had set his mind on getting out of here, she saw no reason to resist. He would get his way anyway. So she stood up and left, hearing his stool scraping the ground, and smiled amused.


	34. Macaroni Picture Frame :Vigarde, Lyon

He had dreamt of her again. Of their last vacation in Sicily. Lyon had just been born and Minna had fretted about taking him with them the whole time. In the end it had been a wonderful vacation and the big picture on the mantelpiece had been taken there; all three of them – Minna on his lap, Lyon on hers – at the beach. And how happy they had looked…

Vigarde shuddered and his breath hitched. Minna's laughter rang in his ears. It sounded so oddly cold. He ran his hands over his mouth – his lungs seemed to slow again and the now familiar feeling of suffocation tingled in his chest. "Breathing, deep," he mumbled and straightened, tilting his head up. "Slowly and controlled."

It took a while this time until he was breathing normally again. The dream was still too fresh, he guessed. He stood up from the kitchen table and got a cold bottle of water from the fridge. He pressed it against his forehead and cheeks before opening it and gulping the chilling liquid.

"Papa?" he suddenly heard behind him and looked over his shoulder. Lyon was still dressed in his jacket and even his bag was still on his back. He was holding something square in his arms.

Vigarde set the bottle down and turned fully to Lyon. "Why are you wearing your shoes in the house?" He frowned at Lyon, who in turn dropped his gaze. "The floor was just swept."

"I'm sorry, Papa," Lyon mumbled.

"Take off your jacket and shoes."

"But I want to show you something!" Lyon exclaimed.

"After you changed." Vigarde was harsher than he intended to be. Lyon flinched at his tone and hastened out of the kitchen. Vigarde felt a pang and slumped on a kitchen chair. "Damn it," he whispered to himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get a hold of yourself." Taking deep, calming breaths, he waited for Lyon to return.

The small boy looked very insecure and hesitant when he shuffled back, the square thing pressed tightly against his chest. "What do you want to show me?" Vigarde asked in a soft voice and extended his hand.

A small smile crept on Lyon's face as he pulled the thing out of its wrapping. "We made this today in kindergarten," he said and his cheeks reddened with pride when he turned the thing around.

"A…macaroni picture frame?" Lyon nodded, still shining with pride. The simple picture frame was over and over covered with yellow noodles. There was the hint of a pattern but it seemed like Lyon hadn't been able to go all the way and had eventually just placed the macaroni on it randomly.

"Yes! And I thought maybe," Lyon dropped his gaze again, "we can put it on the fireplace?" His voice was wobbly and insecure, just as his gaze when he looked up at Vigarde through his bangs. Vigarde's heart clenched.

"And about which picture did you think?" A huge lump had gathered in Vigarde's throat.

"Maybe the… beach picture?" Lyon's voice had fell to a whisper and Vigarde had to strain his ears to hear him. Vigarde licked his lips and rubbed his hand over his chin.

"But, do you think that it… fits there?" Lyon's gaze turned desperate and an overwhelming guilt washed over Vigarde. "And its current frame fits the sea so well."

"Okay," Lyon whispered in a teary voice. He hugged the picture frame to his chest.

"How about," – Vigarde noticed that his own voice started to get laced with sadness and grief – "we put the frame in the kitchen?" Lyon looked at his father confused. "I mean, there are noodles on it. Isn't that perfect for a kitchen?" Vigarde's smile was a bit wobbly, but sincere. "Look, we can maybe put it here." Vigarde stood up and walked over the worktop. "Directly next to the coffee machine. Then we'll see it every morning when we make breakfast." Hopeful, he looked at Lyon. At least the boy didn't look like he would start crying any second anymore. Quite the opposite, he seemed to think hard about the correct placement of the picture frame.

"Or we can put it here," Lyon said and turned to the old cabinet opposite of the table. "So we can see it during breakfast."

"That's a great idea," Vigarde said quite relieved. He took the frame and placed it on the first hanging cupboard. He threw a questioning glance at Lyon, who frowned adorably and shook his head. Then Vigarde placed it on the worktop, which was exactly at Lyon's eye-level. Lyon smiled brightly.

"Yes, there."

Vigarde sighed inwardly. "Alright. Then," – the next words were incredibly hard and painfully to pronounce – "let's look through our pictures and choose a good one of Mama, yes?" Lyon suddenly stepped closer, clutched Vigarde's hand tightly and nodded, half hiding his face in Vigarde's side. Vigarde stroked his head gently and then picked him up, awkwardly cuddling him as he fetched the photo albums.


	35. Moving In :FadoCatalina

Written for the fluff_bingo on dreamwidth. I really like this piece XD It was so fun to write. But Fado and Catalina are just like that~

**Contains**: implicit sexual situations (because they're Fado and Catalina)

* * *

"Huaaa," Fado sighed, stretching his arms and legs.

"You sound satisfied," Catalina said, giggling. The young man grinned and rolled his head to the side. Catalina was lying on her side, head propped up on her hand. Her nipples were still slightly red and probably sensitive. Fado's grin widened.

"I am."

Her smile was devious and extremely attractive, but she immediately robbed him of the sight when she sat up. "I need a drink," she said and stood up.

"I'm gonna shower."

"Alright," she called over her shoulder as she left for the kitchen – stark naked. Fado jumped out of bed and walked through the hallway to the bathroom at the end of it. He passed the kitchen and managed to catch a good look of Catalina's backside, which pleased him greatly. When he arrived in the bathroom, he immediately placed his dark blue towels on the towel basket and stepped into the shower cubicle.

"Fado!" Catalina called from the kitchen.

"Yeah!?"

"There's shampoo for you in the cupboard." Fado blinked surprised and looked into the green cupboard under the basin.

"Huh." He grabbed the white bottle. "Thank you!" he called and then stepped back in the cubicle.

Just as he had finished his quick shower, Catalina entered the bathroom. Fado grabbed his towel, quickly dried his hair and then tied it around his middle. "Where did the shampoo come from?"

Catalina rolled her eyes. "So that you stop stealing _my_ shampoo." Fado chuckled, slapped her on her behind on his way out and fled before she could retaliate – he had been spanked sufficiently already.

###

Fado bent low and caught the jet of water with his mouth. "What are you doing?" Catalina asked him from the door. He gargled and spit the water back into the basin.

"Cleaning my mouth, obviously." He looked at her while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Catalina furrowed her eyebrows. "As much as I like you, I'd rather not keep your hair between my teeth." She pulled a face.

"Good God, Fado, you could've asked for a toothbrush." He shrugged. Catalina walked over and knelt down, pulling a brand new toothbrush out of the bathroom cupboard. "Here, you even get a pink one."

Fado chuckled. "Was that a present?"

"Yeah, from my dentist." She grinned and shrugged. "They only had pink or an ugly mint colour." Fado sighed and unwrapped the hideous, hot pink toothbrush. "You can use my toothpaste, if you want. And put it in the green cup. The blue one is Minna's."

"Alright."

###

They were still enjoying the afterglow, when Fado suddenly frowned and then groaned. "What is it?" Catalina asked and raised her head.

"I just remembered that I have to put on my sweaty clothes." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Then he looked over to Catalina. "Do you mind if I leave some fresh clothes here for next time?"

Catalina smiled – and Fado couldn't determine if it was meant to be friendly or predatory. "Sure, why not. It's not like we ever go to your place."

"We could!" Fado said, grinning and throwing his arms up. "But then we'd have Viggy sitting next door. And you know he would probably tell Hayden and Aileen and then we'd have to finally think about what we're doing here."

"Oh Goodness!" Catalina called with great shock and grabbed her chest. "Not _thinking_!"

"Yes!" Fado answered and rolled onto his side, leaning close. "And then they would always know what we do when I take you home."

"As if that would bother you," Catalina said, giggling.

"It wouldn't," Fado answered, grinning, "but it would take some fun out of it." He gently bit her shoulder. "It's much more fun when it's a secret, isn't it?"

"Hmm." Catalina in turn caught his mouth and caressed his lips with her tongue. "Doesn't matter to me. But if you like secrets…"

"I do."

"Then let us have fun." Fado's eyes glinted and he was happy that he saw the same glint of mischief in hers.

###

"Lina!" came a call from the living-room. Catalina raised her head and looked to her room door.

"What?!" She heard footsteps. Minna appeared in the door frame; she looked slightly confused.

"Whose book is that?" she asked and held up a book with a bright blue cover. Catalina crinkled her forehead.

"I don't know." She sat up in her bed and extended her hand. Minna gave her the book and then waited next to the bed. Catalina read the title and then flipped through it. "I guess it's Fado's?" she said after a moment and shrugged, offering Minna the book.

"Fado's?" Minna repeated confused. "Why would one of his books be here?"

"I guess he forgot when he was here last time." Catalina shrugged again and laid back. Minna blinked and then frowned lightly. "Is something else?" Catalina asked when Minna didn't leave.

"Then all the other things are his too?" Catalina raised her eyebrows.

"What other things?"

"Well, some things. Clothes in the washing machine, his favourite food in the fridge, the CDs in the living-room."

"Oh."

"Yes." There was a moment of silence in which the two women were just looking at each other. "So, uhm, what does that mean?" Minna tilted her head slightly. Catalina shrugged.

"Not much, just that he has some things here. Don't you have some of your things over at Vigarde's?" Minna reddened slightly and nodded.

"Of course," she said and looked at the ground. "I was just surprised." Catalina smiled at her.

"No problem. I'll tell Fado to clean up after himself next time, alright?"

"Thank you," Minna answered and finally accepted the book. "Well, have a good nap, then."

###

Fado and Catalina were lounging on the big couch in the living-room when they heard Minna and Vigarde entering the apartment. "Hey Viggy!" Fado immediately called when the giant entered the room. Vigarde grinned and they clasped hands in greeting.

"Hey, Vig, Minna," Catalina said and just waved from her lying position.

"Hi," Minna said and placed her handbag on the ground.

"What are you watching?" Vigarde asked and leaned on the back of the couch.

"Just a basketball match," Fado replied. "It's pretty boring, though." Minna went over to Vigarde and took his arm, throwing him a pleading look. He hesitated, licked his lips and then nodded. Minna smiled relieved.

"Lina, Fado," she said, "can we talk with you for a moment?"

"Sure," Catalina said and threw a questioning look at Fado. He nodded.

"Great," Minna said with a sigh and pulled Vigarde with her around the couch. Fado grabbed the remote and switched off the TV. Catalina sat up and crossed her legs. Vigarde and Minna sat down opposite of them. Minna seemed slightly nervous; she exchanged another glance with Vigarde and then took a deep breath. "We– we want to discuss something with you." Fado looked curiously at Vigarde.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, Minna and I decided to move in together."

"Really?" Fado asked bewildered. Catalina looked at Minna seeking for confirmation. There was a giddy smile tugging at her friend's lips.

"Who would've thought that Viggy would ever agree to such a commitment," Catalina said to Fado, trying to push a smile on her face, but it didn't look genuine. Fado was staring at Vigarde.

"Man, I would've never thought you'd ever do that."

Vigarde harumph-ed. "Well, you gotta grow up sometime."

Fado snorted. "It was Minna's idea, right?" Vigarde nodded. "Knew it."

"That doesn't mean I don't want it," Vigarde said with a light glare. He put his arm around Minna and hugged her close.

"So, does that mean you'll look for a new apartment?" Catalina asked. Her good mood was a tad dampened and it showed. Minna's smile turned slightly insecure again.

"Well," she threw another glance at Vigarde, "we actually wanted to ask you if you want to do an apartment swap with us." Fado and Catalina both frowned confused. "I mean, Fado already has so many things here that it wouldn't be such a great move," Minna continued. Fado and Catalina froze – mentally they went through Catalina's and Minna's apartment and they saw that Minna was right. They looked at each other. "Of course we don't want you to force to move in with each other, but it would be very convenient."

"We wouldn't have to waste time on looking for a new apartment," Vigarde said. "I really have no time for that. Too many exams and papers are coming up."

"And both apartments are already furnished. We don't have to renovate or buy anything. Well, maybe a few small things, but not much." Fado and Catalina were still staring at each other. Minna and Vigarde waited for a moment. Then Minna grew very nervous and threw insecure looks at Vigarde. He shrugged.

"Do I really want to move in with a sloven like you?" Catalina asked suddenly. Fado wrinkled his nose in amusement.

"I should be the one asking that."

"I'm not a slacker like you. I know very well how your apartment looks like."

"That's just because Viggy never cleans." Catalina gently boxed him in his side.

"Always putting the blame on someone else."

"Never." Catalina laughed.

"So, what is it?" Vigarde asked. Fado threw a last glance at the grinning Catalina.

"Sure," he said, putting his arm around Catalina's shoulders.

"Alright," she added. Minna immediately brightened and hugged Vigarde tightly. He coughed in jest and returned her embrace. Catalina threw a loving glance up at Fado and found that it was returned. "Hi, new roommate."

"Lovely to meet you, new roommate." And he leaned down and kissed her.


	36. Lending A Cloak :Canas, Nino

Uuhhhh... I have no idea. Writing this was kiiiiiiiinda hard. I really can't get into their heads well D8

Written for the fluff_bingo on dreamwidth.

* * *

Cold winds were coming from the north and not even sitting at a fire place as close as possible could warm the soldiers from Lord Eliwood's troupe. Clutching her short cloak around herself, Nino hastened toward the tent she was sharing with two of the pegasus knights from Ilia. She hoped that she could snag their blankets as well; the Ilian knights were much more sturdier than the other soldiers. After jumping over the ropes of a neighbouring tent, she suddenly saw a purple-haired person sitting under a tree.

Nino's face lit up. "Uncle Canas!" she called, waved and ran over to him. Canas at first only peeked over the edge of the book, then fully looked up and smiled pleasantly.

"Nino, dear. How are your studies coming along?"

"Good." Grinning, she stopped in front of him. "What are you reading?" She leaned over and tried to read the letters upside down. She still wasn't that good at reading so it was an almost impossible task. As of yet.

"Oh, a fascinating study on anima magic," Canas answered with a nod. "I remember my wife once told me about this theory. Quite a coincidence that I found the book here. I was looking for it at home but no store had it in." He gently stroked the rough paper. "We'll be able to have fascinating conversations about this when I get home." He smiled up at Nino. She nodded, rubbing her arms to warm them a bit. Her gaze was sticking to the pages of the magic book. The letters were winking and waving invitingly at her.

"Oh, Uncle Canas, may I to ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a spare cloak?" She pulled at her own. "Mine's useless in this weather."

"I'm sorry, Nino, I don't. I only have this one." His cloak seemed to be made of very comfy and warm fur. It looked very old and used, but Canas wasn't shivering one bit. Nino bit her lip. The book was inviting her and the two or three words she could make out from upside down already sounded fascinating. She truly wanted to read this book and spent no more hours without it.

"But… isn't it big enough for two?" Canas blinked. "Can't I warm up with you?"

"Oh. Very well. Why not." He shifted slightly to the side. Nino, however, quickly sat down on his lap. Canas startled lightly in surprise, but didn't react. Nino pulled the cloak around them both and sighed relieved when she felt the warm fur caress her skin. She grinned. "You don't mind if I continue reading?" Canas sounded a bit flabbergasted.

"Of course not! I didn't want to keep you from anything." And so Canas propped the book up so that he could comfortably look over Nino's shoulder. Thankfully she wasn't particularly tall.

Nino didn't try to talk to him or disturb him in any other way so he could read in peace and therefore didn't mind her presence. When he turned the page, though, she sprung into action again; she grabbed his hand and called: "Wait!" He looked at the back of her head confused. "I haven't finished the page yet." A warm smile spread on his face, he suppressed a chuckle and patiently waited until Nino had deciphered the letters. "Alright, I'm finished," she finally said and grinned at him over her shoulder.


	37. Parental Sanctions :Fado, Ephraim

Written for fic_promptly on dreamwidth: "the punishment for dereliction of duty is more duty"

I just like Fado and Ephraim, kay.

* * *

Despite the sun shining brightly and the birds singing peacefully in the gardens, the mood was quite heavy and serious. Ephraim stood ramrod straight and stared forwards. Fado was sitting in a low chair, whose wooden skeleton was hidden underneath a brown fur blanket. The king was staring off in the same direction as his son; a robin was hopping around on the balustrade of the balcony. He looked here and there, tilting his head adorably. Suddenly his movements stilled, the bird flapped his wings once, twice and then he was gone.

Ephraim shifted impatiently and his eyes darkened. His fingers itched; he wanted to get over with this. He was losing time that he could employ better elsewhere. On the training field, for example. Or do something fun with Eirika; they wanted to explore all the cellars of the castle for a while now, but they had always been detected before they could even descend the first stairs. But they had been watching the guards for a few days and now knew when the corridors were empty.

"Ephraim," said Fado, heaving a great sigh.

"Yes, Father?" Ephraim snapped. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. He had to restrain his temper or this would take even longer.

"I assume you know why you are here?" Fado's voice sounded a tad colder than a second ago. Ephraim swallowed and looked up; he was _not_ intimidated!

"No." Fado looked at him, expressionless. Ephraim swallowed again; his father was truly angry.

"Ephraim, don't play dumb with me." Ephraim quickly nodded. His father's face relaxed a bit and Ephraim immediately felt better. "Your teachers are telling me you're not doing your work or studying. Is that true?"

Ephraim huffed. "I don't need their lessons." He stuck out his chin. "I'm going to become a mercenary. I'll travel around and fight. Eirika is going to rule. She promised." Fado sighed and lowered his head, massaging his forehead. "I will," Ephraim added with force. "And you won't stop me."

"Ephraim, I do not care." Lighting hit Ephraim and frizzled through his veins. His heart beat loudly in his ears and for a second breathing was difficult. His father looked at him again with a level gaze. "You will attend the lessons and you will do your work."

"But–!"

"Do _not_ interrupt me." Ephraim's mouth snapped shut and his eyes widened. "Even if you don't believe me now, you will need this knowledge. I've talked with your teachers," Fado pushed himself out of the chair and walked past Ephraim to the windows, "and I allow them to punish you at their discretion if you act up again. This includes keeping you in your room until you have finished your homework, even if you miss other classes. But don't think that you don't have to catch up on them in your free time."

That restored Ephraim's spirits. "But then I'll miss my lance practice with Seth!"

"Yes, that could happen." Fado turned and stared down at his son. "If you let it happen."

"That's unfair," slipped past Ephraim's lips before his pride could forbid it.

"You have no one else to blame but yourself. Do your duties. Then the punishment will be lifted again." Ephraim gritted his teeth, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Oh, and you are not allowed to ask Eirika for help or your lance training will be cancelled completely."

"You can't do that!" Ephraim exclaimed. He couldn't believe that these words had actually fallen from his father's lips.

"I can do many things." Fado's face was expressionless again. "You are talented enough to catch up quickly. Missing a few weeks of training won't harm you." Ephraim blinked quickly. This had to be dream. They stared at each other for a few moments; then Fado sighed and his expression softened. "Ephraim, you'll understand me when you're older. Trust me, alright?" Fado tilted his head and smiled gently. Ephraim fought the impulse to pout and only lowered his head. He heard his father sigh again. "That's all for now, Ephraim. It's time for your language lessons anyway." Ephraim nodded and turned, still keeping down his head. "Be a good boy."

"Yes, Father," he mumbled and scuffled out of the room.


	38. Simplicity

Written for a prompt: Language/ Words. And every time a prompt relating to language comes up, I always think of Bastian first. Damn that fine bastard.

* * *

"You are my sun and my sky. Your hair was spun from the clearest summer morning, the eternal beauty of daylight possessed by just one person. So bright and fair. Like a goddess you give me life and guide my every step on the way to worthiness."

Lucia lazily turned over the page of her book.

"How sad and dark my world would be without you. Your light and goodness spurs me on to become worthy of you. Of your gaze, of your notice, of your love. Your presence gives me strength and, oh, how powerless it makes me not to see you every day. Like a starving man, I yearn for the moment your light grazes my tired eyes again."

She had lost her line again. Sighing through her nose, she threw an admonishing glance at Bastian. He actually noticed and paused his serenading. Drumming on the pages of her book, she waited for him to understand. He held her gaze for a few seconds.

"I love you and I'll miss you," he eventually said, clutching his chest.

Lucia smiled, leaned over to peck Bastian on his lips and returned her attention to her book.


End file.
